


Fearless

by apolloshalo



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man (Tom Holland Movies), Spider-Man - All Media Types, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Asexual, Crossover, Endgame, F/M, Infinity War, New York City, Original Female Character(s) - Freeform, Queens, first fic here we go, i'm aromantic but i'll try my best, i'm finding suggested tags since i don't know how this works, oc following along with the storyline and hopefully makes things better, oc with superpowers, oh yeah some swearing too, prepare for action, spider-man far from home, spider-man homecoming - Freeform, step aside mj, this is a disaster already, this'll be fun
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-17
Updated: 2021-02-28
Packaged: 2021-03-03 02:21:45
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 46,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24237223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/apolloshalo/pseuds/apolloshalo
Summary: Diana Bennet can't figure out if her powers are a blessing or a curse.Diana was never a dark, mysterious person. But at night, that was the basis of her persona. With the power to control darkness, mixed with whatever substance she was hit with behind a warehouse, sneaking up on criminals was easy. But just as she was getting the hang of heroism, some random guy called Spider-man shows up in her neighbourhood and absorbed half of the crime right up. That left Diana with more free time that she'd like.But that meant it left her time to be her normal, yearbook-clubbing, hippie, Spanish-quiz failing self, and to reveal all the quirks that followed suit. Yearbook was the best for Diana- it was her getting involved, so it made her sister happy, and it was her taking pictures, so it made her happy too. And when paired with Peter Parker, Diana's intriguing, eccentric lab partner to take photos of upcoming school events, she finds out that happiness can come in more ways than one. Meeting Peter, on a totally unrelated note, made Diana's world flip and connect at the same time. Who was this kid, really? And why was he so... familiar?
Relationships: Peter Parker/Original Female Character(s)
Comments: 14
Kudos: 24





	1. prelude

**Author's Note:**

> this is my first ao3 fic! let's hope it doesn't suck. i have a problem where I always begin with a giant dollop of action. this is gonna be a long one. i'm hoping to bleed into endgame, at the very least and maybe continue into far from home. each chapter is probably going to be about 2,000-4,000 words. It'll rarely be smaller than that. I am always open to advice, PLEASE if you feel the need, because I feel like my writing could be a lot better but I don't know exactly how? so suggestions are welcome or if you just want to comment sweet. (also does this post at the end of every chapter or just the first? i'm an ao3 virgin and have no idea how to work anything but the kudos button.. forgive me haha) but big news! i just figured out that endnotes showed up at the END of the work and that i can just copy and paste instead of using html text. whoo!
> 
> I'll list my playlist one by one! trouble, by coldplay. it really gives me vibes for this whole book. in fact, it's my favourite song to exist. so it goes first :) here we go!
> 
> oh yeah, and this is set at the start of the year of Homecoming. I do keep some characters from the other trilogies and comics, because I really want to take advantage of the space between homecoming and infinity war. i'm actually keeping michelle along with mj, who won't appear right away but are totally different characters because Zendaya is a queen who deserves her character in here :)
> 
> I'll try updating monthly, at the very latest- university is heavy but i also procrastinate and am nocturnal , so we'll see how things work out! If you've gotten this far into the note, thank you, and I really hope you enjoy Diana and Nitara's antics :)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> So I've got two OC's! Diana and Nitara, and it's told from Diana's point of view. Other than meeting Peter, she dives into her own mystery and deals with her own superpowers with her trusty sidekick Nitara. Expect a crossover kind of fic with characters like Harry and MJ coming into play, and although they have a long way to go, this will follow Diana's relationship with Peter as well as some self-exploration. :) strap in folks

I was dozing off at work when the phone rang.  
  
I jumped up. My arm had knocked a few sheets off of the counter, but I quickly hopped off of the slick wooden stool to pick them up, and then carelessly dangled the corded phone from my ear, keeping it steady between my shoulder and cheek.  
  
"Hello, Queens Diner," I answered, clumsily shuffling all of the fallen papers in my hands. It was odd to get a call after ten at night, and I should've had that in the back of my mind when I answered.  
  
"Diana?" a familiar voice piped up on the opposite side of the line. My cheeks blossomed when I realised that my sister was calling me at work, after I specifically asked her not to, two nights ago when I started this job. "What time are you coming home? I made a bean salad for us, but you aren't here-"  
  
"Madison," I snapped under my breath. "I already told you not to call me at work- you'll hold up the line."  
  
"Your cell phone was off," Madison scolded, and I rolled my eyes. "When will you be home?"  
  
"I'm off at eleven thirty tonight," I said. "So in, like, two minutes. But it'll take me fifteen to walk, so I'll be back a little before midnight. Kapeesh?"  
  
"Not kapeesh," Madison pushed. "Are you sure you need a job? The hours are late, this is your third night and they have you working until near midnight! You're fifteen, for crying out loud, don't they know you have school-"  
  
I sighed. Madison was my older sister, and she's been providing for the two of us ever since my mom died last year. Now, even though she's only six years older than me, Madison is the actual definition of a helicopter parent. "No. I need a job. You can't pay the rent and buy the food all by yourself, you know."  
  
"That shouldn't be your job," Madison said. "It's mine. I can get us by."  
  
"You're so damn secretive," I scowled. "I don't even know where you work, because it's oh-so-secretly important. And I will help you pay the rent and buy the food, because I want to do more than just get by. I'll see you in fifteen minutes."  
  
"Diana-"  
  
I hung up the phone angrily, just as my boss, Marty, poked his head out from the corner of the room by the washrooms and office.  
  
"What's that?" Marty asked me. His brown curls dropped around his face, shaping his confusion.  
  
I bit my lip. "Nothing. Just... someone who changed their mind on ordering."  
  
Marty shrugged. "Remember to be nice to customers, D. You sound dragged."  
  
Marty disappeared back along the wall, and I let out a huff. I would go off at Madison when I got home. For now, I untied my red apron, threw it in the laundry bin under the desk, and clocked out. I waved an exhausted good-bye to Marty as I slipped out the glass door, sliding off my flimsy crimson visor and hanging it on the hook so I wouldn't have to walk home looking like a beachy maniac. I left the shoe room and stepped out into the cool August night. There was a breeze that glided across my cheeks, but other than that, all was calm.  
  
Well, as calm as Queens could get at eleven-thirty on a weeknight.  
  
A rumble of thunder sounded in the distance, disrupting the unusual peace of the chaotic area. I cursed under my breath- my umbrella was hanging on the coat rack in my apartment. Even though the air was thick and mild, Madison was probably at home, running around worries that I would be in the rain.  
  
As soon as I thought the word, a drop landed on the tip of my narrow nose, and another one soon after on my cheek. I looked up at the dark night sky, and could barely tell that gray clouds were prominently floating over the entirety of the city. Three more raindrops splashed down on my face.  
  
I was actually a fan of rain, but I started jogging down the dimly lit street to get home when I promised Madison by, eleven forty-five. Puddles were already forming when I had sped along two blocks, and the light sprinkle was beginning to turn into a downpour. Not just your average rain, but the kind of fall where everywhere you looked was a crackling gray television screen. I couldn't see three feet in front of me. Still, I stormed through the falling water up another empty sidewalk, making my way home.  
  
I sped my pace down when I was almost all the way down the next road. I knew vaguely of the alleyway that carved a shorter distance home. I remember contemplating taking it my first night walking home, and then skipping it, only to see the other side of it after walking a fat eight minutes. Logically, I could save time by taking it, and be home at eleven-forty, tops.  
  
I pivoted my heel in the shallow waters of the puddle that I was standing in, and dodged the rest as I speed- walked down the pavement of the alley. It was a narrow alley- I wasn't sure that even a car would be able to drive through. Not a large one, anyway. It was nice and cozy between an old, abandoned warehouse, and a run-down apartment that I was sure was only half-occupied. Some trash littered the first bit of the path, most likely thrown out of the apartment windows above me. The pavement was cracked and bumped in every place possible, and I assumed that it hadn't been re-paved since the day it was created.  
  
I walked faster with my head down, remembering why I wasn't fond of alleys. They were a little too dank and creepy for my likings. It was hardly illuminated- the only light came from the occasional lamp sticking high off the ground of the apartment. I tried my best to watch my step along the pavement, which became somehow even more uneven as I neared the halfway point. By now, I was completely soaked from head to toe, and would for sure get an earful from Madison about it back at the apartment.  
  
In the dimness, a shiny set of double doors gleamed from a little lamp that was hung directly across the alley on the apartments. They were the only doors that I had seen so far on the warehouse yet, which was a little odd. There were no big windows, either. Only slim planks carved just below the roof, and there was cardboard covering them anyways.  
  
I was creeped out to the max, needless to say, and sped up my walk as fast as I could without tripping. My footsteps echoed in the walkway from the puddles and pavement alike, but those sounds were drowned out when the double doors were both slammed open at the same time, sending a yellow stream of light against the ground and wall, and a second later, a man flying out.  
  
He was obviously thrust out of the building by a pretty big force, because he was airborne across the entire alley, and crumpled against the brick wall opposite the warehouse. All of this unfolded not five feet away from me- I hadn't even walked by the doors yet. Instead, I froze.  
  
"Please," the man, not a day over forty, stuttered. He covered his forehead with his arm, as if he were staring into the sun. He was seeing something I wasn't, beyond the doors inside the building. He didn't even notice my shadow towering over him. "No-"  
  
Before I could say anything, help the man or run in the other direction, a loud engine whirred to life somewhere, only in seconds. But it sounded like an eternity of whatever thing behind the door was gearing up for.  
  
I shouldn't be here. This was wrong. Very wrong.  
  
I couldn't peel my eyes off the scene in front of me- everything was happening in slow motion, ten times slower than it should have been. A violet glow began to mix with the yellow light illuminating the alley, and a blast shortly followed as something that resembled a stream of electricity and wisps of something as purple as the glow laced within that danced through the air, striking the collapsed man in an attosecond, and something broke inside of me as I watched the scene unfold. The man jolted as the violet wisps crackled around him, suffocating him and slicing him at the edges, drawing blood. A moment later, he went limp. He didn't even scream.  
  
I didn't think. I stopped doing that altogether. But what I did next was incredibly stupid, and I could only thank the empath inside of me for it. Without even knowing what was behind the doors, probably still there, looming on the scene, I had to dash towards the man. I didn't just watch someone die. I didn't want to believe I did, either.  
  
I made a point to avoid the puddles around me now, too. It was, most likely, warehouse residue, but miniscule lakes of a black- tar like substance littered the ground between the man and I. He had missed landing in it, only a mild victory for him- but as I hopscotched my way over to him, and placed two fingers on his neck, the absence of a heartbeat confirmed what I denied to already know. He was dead.  
My hand started to shake as I pulled it away from his throat. This was a murder scene. Was this the mafia? I questioned what, exactly, my definition of the mafia was. Did they work in large abandoned warehouses at midnight? Did they kill people in cold blood?  
  
Whatever it was, I didn't want to stay to find out. I wasn't sure what way was the shortest out of the alley, but I planned to outrun whatever lurked in that warehouse. My heart leapt when a shadow began to emerge from the doors, creeping along the crumbling pavement, over the body, and up the apartment wall.  
  
I turned on my heel and ran faster than the speed of light, away from the figureless monster coming from the building. The exit was a solid minute's run from where I was, but I was sure I could make it.  
But I had to know what was chasing me- it most definitely knew I was here, especially after nearing the man. I didn't stop running, but I craned my neck like an owl just to see my predator. Unfortunately, I didn't even catch a glimpse of whatever, or whoever, it was, as my foot landed deeper than I thought on the downside of a hump in the pavement, rolling my ankle down the concrete.  
  
I fell to the ground in a rough stumble, and landed with an odd splash. I rolled onto my side, swearing. My ankle hurt like hell. And my knees both stung like a real bitch. My head pounded. On top of all this, I was soaked, somehow more so than before.  
  
Not from the rain. But coating my legs, my backside, my hands, and splattered over my chest and face, was the undesirable tar-like shit that I had already declared as warehouse residue and pledged to avoid.  
  
"Mother of fuck," I shot at myself, climbing up, only to fall on my knees once again, which hurt. Carefully, I grasped the flat surface of the wall with my hand, using it as a level to pull myself up. I groaned, and leaned my head against the rough brick of the apartments. I shut my eyes, pressing my lids together hard until the world around me stopped spinning. Or maybe it was my head that was spinning, like a wheel let free down a hill. Either way, I wished for it to stop.  
  
The only other thing I could feel was a burning sensation that ate at my skin. Panicked, I wiped the black liquid from my face with the dry patch of fabric at the back of my white blouse sleeve. Everywhere it touched my skin, it was like a flame that tore through my flesh. I could feel it on my hands, and on my back, not protected by my top's cotton. My shirt must have been ripped on the other side, and when I tried to get it off with my hands, it did practically nothing but mix them both.  
  
My actions were interrupted by the disturbing clanking coming from my right, where the double doors stood, politely open. My eyes were painfully zooming things in and out of focus, and my ears were like hollow tunnels in my head. Everything around me was happening times a hundred, and it was next to impossible to interpret anything. Anything but the near robotic sound, taking slow clunking steps out of the warehouse towards me, each step bringing my probable death closer and closer.  
  
"Well," a scratchy voice hissed, echoing a million times in my ears. "You shouldn't be here, should you, buttercup?"  
  
I turned my eyes into the direction of the man's horrifyingly vacant voice. My eyes were on a slant, adjacent to the wall I leaned upon, but my crooked view did this man no mercy. First of all, he was wearing a metal jumpsuit, complete with silver transformer shoes, and a wider build. His chest and legs were exposed to air, but his arms were covered in the same metal, which also served as a mask around his face. All I could do was have my eyes meet his, empty and green. His robot suit, fantasy garment, whatever you want to call it, was either incomplete, or this guy was really ballsy and not to mention, confident. But the trademark of it all were the two gigantic metal wings that were neatly folded behind him, waiting to be used.  
  
Oh. He was also carrying the largest gun I have ever seen in my life.  
  
"I hate to do this," he continued, taking slow steps towards me, gearing up his gun. Likewise, for every step he took, I took one back. "But you really were in the wrong place at the wrong time."  
  
"No," I croaked, my voice wobbling. His words pierced into my soul. This was it. Goodbye, Madison, goodbye, Nitara, goodbye, my faithful cat Chewie. Hello, the end of the line.  
  
"Yes," he said, his voice hushed. It should only have been a whisper, and he was a good ways away from me. But I heard him loud and clear.  
  
I didn't want this to be it for me. Everything I have ever known flashed in front of my eyes. My friends, my family- maybe I could see Mom and Dad again.  
  
Or maybe I could die trying to live.  
  
* * *


	2. Alleyway Prejudices and Battle Scars

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> aaand we continue from the last chapter! homecoming hasn't started yet, but it's about to, since it's hardly the beginning of the school year. right now, these guys are all sophomores. Madison is six years older than Diana, in case you were wondering, and... I think that's it. Nitara is in this chapter- she's Diana's best friend. Both oc's :)

In a flash, I turned and ran the way I came. Everything was so much more prominent, more visible, and I had no problem sprinting my fastest down the uneven alley to safety. I ran for three, five, ten seconds, and just a little more time would allow me to possibly be out of range. 

  
But my dreams were shattered like broken glass when the wind brought to my ears the unmistaken whirring, the same whirring I heard just moments before that man's death. It sped up, quicker and higher, until all of the energy it had built up was released in one giant wave that met my skin in seconds.  
  
I collapsed in a heap, and I couldn't keep a scream from my lips as the pure charge of energy consumed me from head to toe. It shook me to the core, rattled my skull, and I curled into a ball the best I could. It hurt. Not like a paper cut or stubbing your toe or falling on uneven cement hurt, but being sliced with a thousand white-hot knives and not being able to breathe hurt. What I had just witnessed was happening to me. My skin was slashed and my limbs were shook but unlike the man, who only lasted a minute under the gun, this pain didn't stop.   
  
Instead, it calmed down, only a little bit. I was still on fire in the rain, which was my only source of coolness at all. But my back was still being electrocuted, and my fingers were still being torn from their joints. The buzz went up and down my hands, and when the rest of my body fizzed out like a sparkler, my back, my hands, still burned in agony.  
  
Through all of that, I could still hear the footsteps of the devil clanging through the alley, and the closer they got, the stiller I became. This was my last shot. Play dead, and make sure the robot man didn't need to use a plan B.  
  
He must have only been ten feet away when he slowed down. My ears told me everything. My eyes, on the other hand, were squeezed shut. I didn't want to risk him seeing me blinking or something else that would clumsily lead to my doom. But when I heard creaking, like he was turning, my curiosity got the best of me as I ever so slightly looked past the wavy chestnut brown hair covering part of my face.  
  
I did not expect what I saw. Everything, everywhere around me was pitch black dark. Any light that had come from inside the warehouse or the pathetic streetlamps on the walls had been somehow shut off, but the weirdest thing was that I could see just fine. It was like when your eyes adjust to your bedroom light being turned off and you stare into nothingness until that nothing becomes something. It was dark as night, but I could see clear as day.  
  
And what I first saw was the bird guy towering above me, staring straight through my soul. Except he didn't look like he knew I was here.   
  
I decided that if he were going to find me, I was still in the same general spot he had last seen me in, so as silently as I could, I rolled over the rocky pavement against the cool warehouse wall. This turned out to be a good decision- not a minute later, metal man powered up his gun and shot the same bone-chilling wavey violet sparks I had seen twice already at the very spot I had just been laying.   
  
Reluctantly, I ignored my body's cries and used the wall to help me stand. It was almost amusing to watch him look around in confusio into the endless darkness that cloaked his vision.  
  
"Hey, bird brain," I practically whispered, snapping his attention to my location. "Over here."  
  
I dodged out of the way like a bullet as he fired his next shot at the warehouse, the whips of the royal violet cracking against the wall. I was relying on fumes and a leg and a half, but I managed to slip far from my previous spot. A crack was left in the warehouse exterior, but I had to snap my focus back to the wing thing approaching my side of the alley. I took this as my cue to leave, and stumbled away from him in a sort of zig-zag pattern. Mainly because my foot was holding me back, but I also wanted to avoid any possible random hits my chaser could retaliate.  
  
At this point, my heart was hammering against my chest. Every step was like walking on coals for my right foot, and the inferno of his yell electrified my entire body as I ran up the alley. He was behind me. He was chasing me- all I could do was run.  
  
The charge burned my ears when I heard it again. By now, the sound of my attacker gearing up his gun was all too familiar, but it didn't cease to send shivers down my spine. I knew it was coming, and the alleyway was too damn narrow, it was going to hit me-  
  
And hit me it did. But not like the last time.  
  
My skin still burned from whatever substance I had fallen in, probably because it was still all over me and my clothes. Yet instead of the violet streaks of hell slashing my skin and pulsing through my bones, the pure energy that hit me was assimilated into my skin.   
  
This time, it invigorated me, and I felt absolutely intoxicated in the middle of the dark lane. I stumbled, but I didn't fall. In fact, I ran faster. The street was so close, it was getting closer every second, and my blood pulsed through my veins like the violet streaks had become part of my bloodline and didn't stop moving, didn't stop rushing through me at a hundred miles an hour. It brought me with it instead, and I loved it. Fresh wind against my face and my feet slapping pavement was all I could interpret, and it was all I needed to keep going.  
  
In the next moment, my shoes pounded onto the much better paved concrete sidewalk, and I made a sharp left, not slowing down. The pain from my foot had gone away. Or maybe it hadn't, and I had just run too much and started ignoring it. Either way, it didn't slow me down as I sprinted down the street, out of the clutches of the bird dude.  
  
I was at the street's corner as I began to notice it was becoming light again. I didn't understand- I didn't understand how it had become dark in the first place. But my energy drained away with the darkness, which was slowly but surely fading away.  
  
My foot began to sting again. I looked behind me, and even though the street was once again illuminated by proper streetlamps on this normal road, my chaser was nowhere in sight. In fact, no cars had driven by, and no people were on the sidewalk. The street was completely empty.  
  
I suppose it was late. In the distance, I could hear cars honking and tires whirring from several blocks away, but I didn't question how. I just wanted to cover my ears. I turned my attention to my location, instead- I could easily read the small print on the sign at the opposite corner, indicating that I was on Winter Street. I still needed to get to Ascan Avenue, but that was a ways away, and I was already wearing out by the second. But I did know somebody who lived on Winter Street.  
  
"Nitara," I breathed, determined to find her apartment. "God, you'd better be up."  
  
I started down the street, a thousand times more tired than I was in the pitch black alley. Her apartment was maybe two thirds of the way down from here. Every day, we would meet at our corner and walk the rest of the way to school. So really, home was only a five minute walk from Winter Street, but I had no idea if I had enough energy to even make it. I felt like passing out. And, even if I managed a slow paced walk, what would I do if the robot bird made another appearance?  
  
Die, probably. So when I reached Nitara's apartment, I reluctantly went into the shallows of the alley next to it and hopped onto the handle of the dumpster so I could reach the fire escape. I scaled it until the fourth floor, and shuffled along the windowsill until I got back to the front of the building. This was Nitara's window that I had climbed to, and now the only hard part of doing this would be knocking on her window light enough as to not wake up her father.  
  
Holding my breath, I tapped gently on the centre of the glass.  
  
Three times was all. I sat perched on the windowsill, not looking down because if I did, I was sure I would tip over. I was praying Nitara hadn't gone to bed yet, and I moved to tap again, but her hands suddenly ripping the ripe green curtains wide open split my vision and almost made me lose my balance.  
  
Nitara looked intrigued at me, but not surprised. I had arrived at her window before, a few times. Once was when I didn't have the keys to my own apartment. I had done it once before then, too, when eight year old me got lost a few blocks after pretending to run away. I had only known Nitara for a few months at that point, but it was long enough to know her apartment. I stayed there for a solid three hours before Nitara's father found me in her room after she made a suspicious amount of bagels to take to her room.  
  
My face in the shadows of the night must not have been enough for her to get a good look at me, because she looked exasperated as she gently pushed up the window's glass to let me in. Tired as Nitara may be, she knew I didn't sneak into her apartment for fun. "What's going on?" she whispered, pulling back the silver lace trim of the curtain so I could get through. "Is everything good with Madison? Did you get locked out again-"  
  
Nitara's mouth didn't close after her last word; instead, it hung open like a fish. I had stepped into the dull gleam of her dim Himalayan salt lamp, which emitted enough light to illuminate my blood/tar soaked body.  
  
"I need help," was all I could muster.  
  
Nitara took a moment just to gape at me. "What happened- what did you- why are you-"  
  
" _Please_ ," I begged.  
  
"Stay there," Nitara said, walking backwards toward her door. "Or, on second thought, sit down. On my bed. Beanbag chair. Wherever. I... I'll be back-"  
  
I gratefully slumped into Nitara's magenta beanbag chair that sat next to her four-poster bed. I didn't know where she was going. I crossed my fingers it wasn't to her father, as I let my eyes close. Just for a minute, I told myself, even though my body was screaming from the inside to go all the way.  
  
Footsteps sounding like they came from another planet echoed over and over again in my ears, and I saw Nitara's shadow enter the room through the slits of my eyelids. I pressed back a groan as I sat up, and Nitara came rushing over to where I sat. In her hands was a stainless steel bowl and she had a small bunch of things between her arm and chest. "You can get on the bed, you know. Covers come clean."  
"Okay," I said, and pulled myself off of the comfy beanbag chair and sat on the bed in a heap. Nitara put down the bowl next to me, and walked over to her dresser and began to search for something.   
  
"Okay," she said quietly. "We have to be careful to not wake up my dad, since you're being so secretive and he has to get up early tomorrow. Clean your back with the soapy water and I'm going to try and find you a blouse in place of that one."  
  
Nitara was calm in somewhat-drastic situations, and that was one of her many good qualities. I reached for the little bowl and wrung out the cloth inside, cleaning my own two hands first. "How do you know I'm being secretive?"  
  
"You would have just gone to Madison if this were no big deal, right?" Nitara could read me like a palm. "I'm guessing you got involved in some shit and I'm not sure I even want to know."  
  
"You don't," I quickly replied, the image of the man dying flashing in my mind. Is it a crime to leave a dead person, or not report it, or something? Because that's exactly what I did. At least I was only fifteen. A minor. "I can't steal one of your blouses."  
  
"Big fat deal," Nitara said, carelessly tossing some shirts onto her beanbag chair before choosing a plain white blouse, similar to my work shirt. "You're only borrowing it, anyways. I'm going to sew that one for you."  
  
I couldn't forget to mention Nitara's handiwork with a sewing machine or needle. She tried reaching me once, and I got frustrated within five minutes. I had no idea how she makes things with just cloth and thread. "Yeah, if you can get the blood out."  
  
"Forget it," Nitara said, tossing me the shirt and jumping onto the end of the bed, making it squeak and the bowl slosh a bit. "Tell me everything."  
  
I had only finished scrubbing my hands and the cloth was already turning the bowl water red. I sighed- involving Nitara, even though her apartment was my sanctuary, was something I didn't want to do. "Just a fair warning," I began, "I think I broke the law."  
  
Nitara strangely looked up at me, wanting more, like I was telling a story of sorts. I only wished I was.   
  
I tried wiping my back down with the cloth where my shirt had ripped, and began recalling the nights events to Nitara. Her eyes would widen, squint, widen, and she politely held back and comments until I got to the end.  
  
"Did you... want to call Madison, then? Since you said you'd be back, like, forty minutes ago-"  
  
"Crap," I said, freezing. Madison would be losing her shit by now. I made a grab for my phone, and checked the lock screen. There were more than nine missed calls, all from the same number. "What do I do?" I piped, panicking all of a sudden. "Madison would literally make me quit if I went home like this. In fact, she'd never let me out of the house again-"  
  
"Don't worry," Nitara said, thinking quick. "Call her and tell her your phone died but you already planned to stay over, or something, and forgot to tell her."  
  
Hands practically shaking, I dialed Madison's number and wasn't at all surprised when she picked up on the first ring. "Madison, I'm oka-"  
  
"You little shit," my sister cursed, using her favourite rude nickname. I could feel her empathy through the phone. "I called you and I called you and you didn't pick up. Do you even realise how much I've been worried-"  
  
"I'm at Nitara's," I explained. "Remember? I asked you last night when you got home from work and you said it was fine. And really, I doubt you'd be calling me a little shit if I had been murdered or mugged or something-"  
  
"Come on, Diana. And no, no, you never mentioned it. But you know I need tabs on you, D, if anything happened-"  
  
"I know, I know," I said, shutting her down. Not having my mom or dad around made Madison very, well, clingy. "Sorry. You got home late, right, and I guess you were kind of half asleep. Next time I'll remind you. I'll see you tomorrow."  
  
And I hung up.  
  
I would be in for it when I got home tomorrow, no doubt, for hanging up like that. And that was on top of the guilt I felt for manipulating Madison, because I wasn't planning on seeing Nitara until school tomorrow, anyway. But Madison didn't call back, and I never got a text, either.  
  
"So you got chased here by Big Bird," Nitara said. "How did you break the law, exactly?"  
  
"The man was dead," I spit out. "I saw him die. Remember, he got hit with this purple wispy tazer gun... thing. I tried to run but then I fell and landed in this black tar shit which is probably just warehouse residue but then the guy with the gun, dressed like a metal bird, he shot me with the gun too and it hurt a lot but all it did was zap me and I'm still here and I don't know how but I left a dead person," I exhaled. "I left a dead person and I'm not sure you're supposed to run from a crime scene after being involved, and there could've been cameras-"  
  
"No," Nitara said, chipping away at the brick that had settled in my stomach. "The warehouse down that road is abandoned, so they wouldn't have cameras."  
  
"That's the thing, though," I tried to say. " It's not abandoned. They're doing stuff there."  
  
"Tell you what," Nitara said. "We'll leave early tomorrow before school and make a pit stop at the warehouse so you can see that it is, in fact, abandoned. It was probably just used as a temporary hideout. Gang stuff. I don't know. But... do you work tomorrow?"  
  
"No," I said. "I don't work until Thursday."  
  
Nitara nodded. "Well, today's Sunday, so I could probably have your blouse ready by then. So I'll give you a white one of mine, just in case I don't fix it in time, and you'll get it back good as new."  
  
"Hold up," I said, halting Nitara from making more plans. "The warehouse is definitely not abandoned. Some gang wouldn't just decide to pitch the night there. They had weapons. Remember? Giant purple taser gun? And the bird dude- his suit- it wasn't finished, or anything. They've probably been there for a while."  
  
"Well, either way, they don't know who you are," Nitara said. "I'll go with you in the morning so you can check, but I'm betting once you got away they packed up and left. Maybe they're already gone."  
  
"They saw my face," I said. "What if they're still there and see us?"  
  
I wanted to go back this morning and check, but another part of me didn't want to go back. I voiced that though to Nitara, who seemed quizzical as to why I didn't want to go back.  
  
"You'll get closure," she said. "Plus, I kind of want to see-"  
  
"I don't," I said bluntly. "I don't want to see them. I want to see an empty, abandoned warehouse, not the weird shit that's been going on in there."  
  
No matter what I did, I couldn't push that man from my mind, and I saw him get struck with the gun, over and over again. I felt myself get hit, over and over again. What was the difference? How was I not dead? The little cuts had stopped bleeding, and didn't look half as bad as they did before all the blood was transferred to Nitara's poor face cloth. But that man didn't die from a thousand cuts. It was the indescribable raw energy that still haunted me. It was like it never left.  
  
Nitara felt the awkward tension in the air that surrounded mostly me, so she continued to dig through her dresser. Soon she tossed a white blouse similar to my work shirt at my face, and I set it down nicely next to me with my somewhat bloody hands. I fumbled with my nametag until I could slide the magnets apart and off of my current shirt, then set it on top of Nitara's. I peeled off the blouse I was wearing, trying not to grimace.   
  
Nitara took it from me with two fingers, making a face. "Ew. What is this stuff?"   
  
The shirt was covered in the midnight black substance of the mysterious stuff I fell in mixed with burgundy bloodstains. I shrugged. "I told you. I have no clue."  
  
"That was rhetorical," Nitara breathed as she stepped out of the room, presumably to the bathroom to do what she could to save the torn fabric barely even staying together by a seam from the back.  
  
With Nitara gone, it was just me and the rag. I tried my best to scrape off the thick, black, sort of dry goo from earlier off my back. After a solid five minutes, I thought the cloth was dirty in every spot possible, which meant my back was at least partially clean. It burned my skin, even with the substance gone. I could feel it on my hands, too. I was just glad I had taken it off my face when I did. I submerged my hands into the soapy water that Nitara brought in with the cloth, and gradually, all the grime that was stuck on my palms washed off.  
  
Content, I shook the water from my hands off over the bucket, then almost had a stroke when I looked at them. I didn't make a sound, but my heart, in override of joy for not being permanently tattooed with black tar, dropped and stopped beating at the sight of the messy scars that littered my palms. What the hell?  
  
Scars didn't just appear. They took forever to form. Panicking, I dipped my hands back into the water, praying that they would be normal when they came out. THey weren't. I tried again, only to be met with the same result.  
  
"No," I whispered, running one ruined finger over my let hand. It wasn't the soothing smoothness of most palms, but a rough, ravaged replica. "No, no nonono. No."  
  
I blinked away hot tears. Calm down. They were just scars. They were only on the bottom of my hands. The tears went away, but my breathing became staggering and uneven, balancing the absence of tears in my distress. I didn't even notice Nitara walk in, freezing in the doorway.

  
"Hey," she whispered, dashing over. "Hey, hey, what's wrong?"  
  
Nitara was almost by my side when she saw me staring into my hands and followed my gaze. "Shit," she mumbled, slowly holding my sad left hand in her perfect, honey coloured one. Between the contrast, I thought I saw a gleam of violet stray over my palm, but it likely came from the city lights. "Oh God. It's fine. It's just your hands, okay? B-battle scars."  
  
I tried to slow my breathing. Nitara was right. Why was I so upset about scarred hands? How did this even happen? Was it the tar? I didn't remember ever touching something super hot. The bird guy was awful, but he didn't set me on fire.  
  
"You're just that much more special now," Nitara said, looking at me from her crouched position before the bed. "Right? It's not like you ever had dreams of being a hand model anyways."  
  
I choked on air. "God, you always know just what to say."  
  
Nitara struggled a smile. "Don't I?"  
  
I took another deep breath. I was fine. Tonight had been traumatic and I was lucky to be alive, and now I had sort of a souvenir. Yeah, I was attacked in an alleyway. Yes, I got out alive. I made whoever did this paranoid that I would rat out their asylum and made them move. I would be the one haunting their ass.  
  
"You can pick out an outfit for tomorrow, if you want," Nitara said, motioning towards her dresser. "Take whatever. I can get it back after. Pyjamas, too, if you want."  
  
I gave Nitara a nod and passed her the bowl of water with the rag in it as I hopped off the bed next to her, gently wiping my hands on my filthy tar-covered work pants. I made my way over to the walnut dresser, but hadn't even opened the shirt drawer when I heard a moderately loud _thunk_ from behind me.  
  
I spun around, facing a stunned Nitara who was again frozen in place. My eyes trailed down to the stainless steel bowl that was now rolling like a coin on the carpeted floor, all the water flooding her floor. "Shit, what now?"  
  
I looked behind my best friend, hoping that I wouldn't be face to face with her dad in her doorway. Not to be dramatic, but the reality was much worse.  
  
"Your back," she stammered. "Oh my g- don't like, lose it, but you're... glowing? Which isn't maybe that weird of a concept after being chased by Big Bird down an alley, but..."  
  
I stared at Nitara, puzzled, before I turned around and stared at my back in the dresser mirror. I moved my chestnut hair aside, revealing skin that was morphed into thick streaks that entwined from my root to, precisely, my shoulder blades. And running along the scars like cars on a street, was the same gun-derived hauntingly violet charge that I saw whenever I closed my eyes for longer than a minute. It hadn't gone away. Instead, my predator's graffiti tainted my skin and pulsed through me. As Nitara coined, Big Bird had made his mark.  
  
"Shit," I breathed. So long, halter tops. My entire backside was horrible and gross and ruined and being consumed by some foreign energy that poisoned me every time I thought about it. I'd probably always have the scars, and I knew it was selfish, but I still had to blink away tears that dared to swim in the base of my eyes.  
  
I jumped at Nitara's cool hand touching my shoulder as she left, to let me change and check out my back. Maybe it was out of respect, but I almost wanted her to stay. I wasn't picky- I would cling on to anyone as long as they told me things would be all right. Because right now, it didn't feel like it. But I clearly didn't always get what I wanted, so it was just me, my battle scars, and the lingering question as to who the _hell_ had done this to me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> here's like, the first couple chapters just to start off with. then regular updating will commence :)


	3. Gloves & Glowsticks

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana deals with the repercussions of the previous night in the form of fabric, and Nitara gets curious. Enjoy!

I was a glowstick.  
  
I had spent the night on Nitara's floor, away from the water puddle, and between the bed and the wall to hopefully avoid being seen by her Baba in the morning. Which had proven to be a success- that was the only thing I really had going for me now. Being somewhat undercover, you could say.  
  
I was about to put on the outfit I had chosen from Nitara's dresser- we were about the same size, but our styles definitely differentiated. I wasn't one for cardigans, especially in the summer. I did find a nice little tank top, shorts, and I even found an old plaid belt of mine in the depths of the dresser. Evaluating the ensemble in the mirror, though, part of my back was revealed by the tank top, and I didn't trust my hair to stay in place to keep the scars covered. Cursing, I took off the shirt and rummaged through the drawers for another option.  
  
Nothing white was an option. First, I was wearing a black bra, which my apron at work covered up relatively well, but a plain white shirt not so much. Second, I didn't want to stir any questions as to why I was glowing purple. Reluctantly, I slid on a violet t-shirt, supposing it was my best bet to blend my chemically wrong backside.  
  
I didn't even know what to call it. What was it called when somebody glowed? Fluorescence? No. Bioluminescence. It was seven in the morning and I was pulling last year's science class out of my mind.  
  
"Dad just left for work," Nitara said, poking her head into her room. "We can go now."  
  
I tucked a stray wisp of hair behind my ear, and twiddled one of my piercings. It was my third one, and there was a little bump on my ear from the metal. Nitara called me to the kitchenette, and threw me a bagel which I nearly dropped. She picked up her schoolbag and left the apartment, and I followed, empty handed minus the bagel. Usually I showered every morning, so I hoped questions didn't arise as to why I smelled faintly of blood. Even though we did our best to wash it off, I could still feel some in my hair, and larger strands stuck together would crumble apart when I touched them.  
  
Nitara and I left the building rather hastily as she speedwalked down the sidewalk. To my delight, we were heading in the direction of the alley, and in just a few minutes the warehouse came into view, a dying flower in a bouquet of buildings. I followed Nitara across the street as we crept up to the apartments next to it, sticking against the bricks for horizontal coverage.  
  
"What a drab warehouse," Nitara spit, waving her hand at the stained gray cement that hid what was going on inside. I could barely see the start of the narrow windows from where we were, but there was no light streaming between the cardboard blockers. The darkness from last night had also faded, lucky for me- I didn't want to have to explain myself to Nitara about how I could see in artificial darkness, and how I was even more of an anomaly than she first thought.  
  
I clenched my fists together as Nitara motioned me to follow her. I gladly let her enter the alley first, but I became reluctant when she dared to go deeper down the road. I didn't want to go farther, but I didn't want to be alone, either.  
  
"Whereabouts was the body?" Nitara asked, searching down the alley. When we had crept to the halfway point, I spotted the double doors looming beside us, and pointed at them. Nitara didn't need words.  
"It's gone," Nitara said simply.  
  
I sighed and pushed ahead of my friend. "Yeah, no shit." I walked in a circle over where I had seen the man get thrown. And, even though some of the pavement was still wet from last night's rain, the puddles of the black substance that ravaged my skin were gone, leaving only dry stains of gray contrasting the pavement.  
  
"Are you sure he was dead?"  
  
"Positive," I answered, still searching the spot. I only turned around when I heard a door creak open, as I caught Nitara gazing into the dark building. "No! Whatareyoudoing?"  
  
I dashed over and yanked Nitara back by her sleeve, but she was already looking at me with an I-told-you-so glance. "See? Empty."  
  
Confused, I let go of Nitara and peeked in myself, forgetting my fears of the man who used to reside in here. There wasn't one piece of machinery, weapons, bodies of sort. Just some metal tables circling the wall on my right hand side, and pillars squarely fit in the middle of the radius of each wall.  
  
I leaned against the side of the metal table, puzzled. How could a gang have cleared out in seven hours? Nitara 's face was expressionless, and I didn't know if she one hundred percent believed me now. But this was what she had predicted, wasn't it?  
  
I was brought out of my train of thought by Nitara's sneeze, making me jump. "Sorry," she apologised. "Dusty in here."  
  
"Dusty," I repeated, staring at nothing. "Dust... Oh! Hey!"  
  
Now, Nitara was confused. "What? What is it?"  
  
Smirking, I ran my palm against the cool metal of the table, shiny and smooth. "There's no dust on the table, anywhere. Sure, it's musty in here, but if it were always abandoned it would be on here, too."  
  
Nitara raised her eyebrows. "Good one, Nancy Drew. I guess now we just need to find out where they went."  
  
I let out a puff of breath. "Which is going to be hard."  
  
"But not impossible. These guys might be good at covering up their tracks, but they must have some kind of name for themselves, right? I mean, advanced weapons? Some guy in a metal bird costume? There aren't many of those around Queens, so with Google and a coffee-"  
  
"We can find them," I muttered, finishing Nitara's sentence.  
  
She rebounded, after hearing what I said. "Huh? No, no, no. We find out who they are, not where they are. These guys are dangerous, remember? Remember the big purple gun?"  
  
"It didn't kill me, though," I breathed. "I want to find them. I don't know. Call the police, too, once we do find them. But it's too late to do that now, since the body is gone. Imagine the bird guy's face when we find him-"  
  
"We?" Nitara questioned. "Again, I don't give a rat's ass where this guy is. I just think we could get some closure finding out his name, and stuff."  
  
"Well then let's start," I suggested, compromising. We had to start somewhere, and I was suddenly a lot more eager to find this guy and turn him in- especially before he did any more of the gun stuff. It didn't kill me, but it killed the other man. I wanted to make sure that didn't happen to anyone else. It was some weird, moral obligation sprouting in me, but I couldn't resist.  
  
"Let's go to school," Nitara suggested, stepping back out of the double doors. "Start up week two. You know, arriving early never hurts."  
  
"No," I said, taking one last look at the warehouse. "I guess not."  
  
* * *  
  
Nitara and I had made our way down the next couple blocks, getting closer to the school. All I could keep on my mind was the abandoned warehouse- and how the group inside slipped away quiet as mice. I was pretty sure there were no twenty-four hour moving trucks that you could ring up on demand, so this couldn't've been a small organization at work.  
  
"We can meet up at lunch," Nitara suggested, but I shrugged. "I don't know how we're going to do this... but we can start with looking this guy up, right?"  
  
"I have Yearbook at lunch," I said, sorry to turn Nitara down. "But it's just a meeting and it shouldn't take the whole lunch. Plus, we could look it up in shop after lunch. Or if we have health this week in gym." I was naming off all the classes Nitara and I had together this year- Spanish, shop and gym. Otherwise, when she had home ec, I had chemistry, and when she had English, I had math. That wasn't all- when I had English, Nitara had math, when I had a spare, Nitara had music. That wasn't in order, but I was beginning to regret taking shop after Nitara nagged me. Unfortunately, I needed the credit.  
  
"Health is next week," Nitara said, shoving her hands into her pockets, reminding me to do the same, just in case. "But shop would probably work. That teacher wouldn't notice someone if they chopped their arm off and waved it in his face..."  
  
I accidentally droned out the ound of Nitara's voice as we walked by the window of a store, beneath another apartment building. The show window had given me a fabulous idea and a fasst solution. "I'll be right back," I told Nitara, darting into the store, barely noticing her following me.  
  
Inside the quaint clothing shop, the lady at the desk looked startled at me barging in, with reason. I dashed to the rack replicating the items on the window, looking at all the store had to offer.  
Nitara came up behind me, and didn't sound surprised that the store had caught my attenttion. "Gloves? Really?"  
  
"Yes, really," I said, not at all ashamed when I took a pair of small burgundy gloves and casual white ones. "One for work, one for everywhere else. Burgundy is flexible, right?"  
  
Nitara sighed. "Yes, but- don't you think you should just... accept it? I mean, you can't wear gloves your whole life-"  
  
"Watch me," I said simply, walking over to the checkout counter. I smiled at the lady, handing her the gloves palm-down, and reached into my back pocket for the one thing I still had on me from last night- my tip money.  
  
"Forty dollars and twelve cents," the lady said, placing the gloves in a little bag.  
  
I handed her eight fives and a jumble of coins. I would be in a pinch to buy lunch, but I was pretty satisfied running off a bagel. "No bag, please," I said, and the cashier pulled them out and slid them over to me.   
  
"Have a nice day," she called out at Nitara and I, while I waved on my way out the door.   
  
"You are something else," Nitara muttered as I ripped off the stickers and slid on the burgundy gloves. The outside was a soft felt, and the tag said eco-friendly fibres. I felt good about that, at least, as I slid the glove over my other hand, concealing my scars and purple glow in fashion.  
  
I folded the white gloves that I would use for work later, and stuffed them in my back pocket where my tip money used to be- now I had five dollars and two pairs of gloves.  
  
They were really nice, actually. The inside was as soft as the outside- it reminded me of what it felt like to pet my cat, Chewie, after the vet shaved part of his back. There was a little gold buckle on a strap that went around the wrist, but other than that, they were pretty plain. In a nice way.  
  
When Nitara and I got to the school, it was only seven ten. Class started in half an hour, so hardly anyone was here. Nitara, though, seemed content talking about the warehouse, and how the bird guy had moved so quickly. As much as I hated the guy, it was nice to have someone to confide in, and I knew neither of us could wait to find out who he was.  
  
* * *


	4. Extra Credit and Murder Boards

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At Midtown High, Diana is acquainted with an eccentric lab partner, and resumes her yearbook activities from the year before, crossing paths with him again.

There were three floors at Midtown High. The first one, for techs, the gym and cafeteria. The second, which housed mostly languages and elective classes, and then the third, for maths and sciences. Oh, and the basement, which was basically just a hallway with two dull classrooms that were never used for classes. I presumed the builders decided to build up, instead of across, so that we had room for a courtyard and field. I wasn't one for sports, though, no matter how much Madison pressed me to try out.  
  
"Lockers?" Nitara asked me upon our entry to the school, already heading to the staircase. Our lockers were three apart from each other, thanks to us sharing a homeroom: Spanish. Nitara was probably the only good thing about that wretched class.  
  
Nitara snapped hers open, sorting out her lunch. I unlocked mine, and a few papers and a shoe tumbled out when I did. It was only the second week of school, and I had already made a mess of my locker. I bent down to clean it up, but I fumbled first with the shoe and landed on my knees in a heap.  
  
"Hey, klutz, you good?" Nitara asked from her locker, but it felt like she was screaming right next to my ear. All I could do was nod, and she reverted her attention to her own locker, letting me bonk my head against the cool steel of my own. After a minute, I slowly placed my shoe and the sheets of paper back in the bottom of my locker. That was weird.  
  
I picked up my binder from the top shelf, and tucked it under my one arm, after gently closing my locker door. As Nitara finished looking in her side mirror, I ran my gloved hand against the grooves in my binder- it was weirdly calming.  
  
"To Spanish," Nitara announced, and I lagged behind her on our way, dreading this class.

  
* * *  
  
For the most part, Spanish was uneventful, except for the warning of our first quiz that lurked sometime next week. I contemplated not even going, but I told myself that I had to stick with school for the first little bit, while my motivation was fresh. Even throughout the entire class, my brain felt like someone was jamming a white hot _cuchillo_ through it. I missed half of what the teacher even said.  
  
Whenever I got my report card, Madison would be happy until she saw my atrocious Spanish mark. It always confused her as to how I could get nineties in everything and then- oop, fifty seven. Language was just not my strong point. So this period, I couldn't wait to dive into a world of molecular structure and just forget about all the verbs they use in countries I'll never go to.  
  
I dropped my books onto my table, next to the red binder that was already there. I looked around for my chemistry lab partner, and I managed to see him in the back, fiddling like mad with a beaker and a little mustard yellow container. I sighed, and decided to ignore whatever he was doing. We had just been assigned our partners last week, and for our first project, he was never available to work on it. Not even on the weekend. He just came up with some excuse about an internship that he had to work on, so I ended up finishing it myself. It was fine- we had gotten a good mark, no thanks to him.  
  
I tipped my chair forward as the bell rang, and diverted my focus to Mr Cobbwell. He started to take attendance, and my partner swiftly took his seat on my left, carefully setting his bag on the ground.  
"Diana Bennet?" the teacher called out, too lazy to look at me.  
  
"Here," I called. Then I turned to my side, tipping back my chair. "So, what's in the bag?"  
  
He perked up, surprised that I had bothered to talk to him, I guess. "Huh? Oh, the bag. Nothing. Just books and stuff."  
  
I raised my eyebrows, and looked at the bag. It was different than the one he used last week. Black, not red. I wondered what had happened to his old one. He grabbed the sleeve and pulled it away from me across the floor, and it made clinking noises, like glass against glass. "Sure. Books and stuff. You know, you could probably just ask Mr Cobbwell for extra credit supplies or whatever, and he would..."  
  
"It isn't for extra credit," he said in a hushed voice.  
  
"Exactly," I said, trying to explain. "Just say you're using it for extra credit."  
  
His cheeks turned pink as he rushed a hand through his wavy, fawn locks. "So what happens when Mr Cobbwell expects an extra credit project?"  
  
"Just say you couldn't finish it," I made up. "What are you doing with all that, anyways-"  
  
"Peter Parker?" Mr Cobbwell droned.   
  
"Here," Peter said, a little bit louder, and then his voice was hushed again. "Just don't tell him? Please?"  
  
I grinned, and Peter looked surprised that I wasn't about to rat him out. "No problem. But show me sometime what you're doing with that. It's cool. Super nerdy and rebellious, too."  
  
This time, Peter's face paled chalk white. "Nerdy? Well, I actually-"  
  
I laughed out loud. "I'm just kidding." And then, even quieter but loud enough for him to hear, "nerd."  
  
Mr Cobbwell began the lesson, but I was slightly distracted by Peter's bag's contents. I wondered what he could possibly need beakers and chemicals for in his spare time. Every squeak of the dry-erase marker on the whiteboard made me flinch, look at my feet, and then at his bag. But before I could ask Peter anything about it between the lesson, the bell eventually rang, and he was out of his seat in a flash.  
  
* * *  
  
Mondays at lunch were the same every week, just like they were the first year I came to school. Nitara would spend time in her home ec room, sewing anything and everything, while the yearbook club met in one of the two basement classrooms. The room we were in was nice and small, with computers lining the walls and tables across the middle, which provided a multi-purpose space perfect for yearbook. The classroom next to us was the drama room, and thanks to the thin walls and club scheduling, every line of the drama club's poorly worded Shakespearean remake plays were broadcast to all of us.  
  
"Okay, guys," Betty announced, looking the group over. There were only about half of us here today- today there was a field trip to some northern art museum, I knew that much. Otherwise, the six of us who had bothered showing up were waiting patiently for Betty to shoot the update. "So as you all know the school year is still fresh and new, its only been a week... I wanted to start out earlier this year. Just so we'll be on top of things, since plenty of clubs-" cut to drama kids yelling incomprehensive words- "have already begun.  
  
"We're going to pair people up," Betty continued, a brightness being added to her voice in light of her new idea. "Based on things we'll all do separately to build this year's book. So, I'll be overseeing printing and everything like last year, but you guys will be working on your one area of expertise. Harry, you're new, so you can meet after with me if you want and we can go over what you want to do?"  
  
Harry, a quiet brunet who just appeared last week that must've been a freshman, because I couldn't recall ever seeing him around, nodded his head quick and quietly. Betty smiled at him awkwardly and moved on. "Cool. So, Charlotte, would you be good on design with Jordyn?"  
  
Jordyn, a small girl from last year sitting next to the door piped up, "I'm good for design."  
  
Charlotte nodded her head, blonde curls following suit. "Cool with me."  
  
Betty looked relieved that there were no complications so far and continued. "I, uh, had Meghan and Damien for student surveys, but they aren't here... Diana? Will you be in charge of photography with Peter?"  
I raised my eyebrows. I forgot that I'd eventually be called out. "Yeah. Photography with Peter. Sure."  
  
I looked to my left, and Peter the lab partner was staring into space. It was a look I'd seen on him often. His warm brown eyes were seemingly glazed over with wonder, and when I looked at the wall he was gazing at, I wasn't surprised to see nothing. Betty cleared her throat, and when that didn't work, she called, "Peter?"  
  
Peter's eyes darted up at Betty. "Sorry?"  
  
Betty was flustered. "Did you want to cover photography for the yearbook with Diana? I just know you two were into taking the photos last year and thought-"  
  
"No, really, that's great," Peter confirmed. "You're right. Thanks for coming up with that."  
  
Betty smiled, accomplished, and looked away. Everybody who came today was assigned at least something to do, so her job was just about done. "If anyone can contact Damien or Meghan or see if Michelle wants to do this again, that would be great, because I'd like her on portraits. I don't know if anyone's heard from her, because I personally haven't seen her anywhere for a solid week, but if you do let her know that we're meeting again. I have lists, too, for outlines of what we all need to get for everybody's sections on the corkboard."  
  
I twisted my head to the back of the room, where the extravagant corkboard hung, taking up half the wall from top to bottom. It was quite possibly Betty's favourite thing to exist, because even though right now it was practically empty, come May it would be full of photos and ideas and lists, all pieced together with blood red string like a murder board. But as of right now, it was empty and screaming to be decorated.  
  
At that point, the meeting was over. Since it was the start of the year and we had nothing to do just yet, meetings didn't usually cover past lunch. I strolled up to the corkboard and read the list titled "PHOTOGRAPHY", and took out my phone to take a picture when I felt someone breathing down my back. I snapped a picture of the list and spun around, face to face with Peter.  
  
"So I, uh, guess we're doing this together, too," he said with a small laugh. My body swiftly slipped out of defense mode.  
  
"Yeah," I commented, walking and talking towards the door. "Did you want to set times in advance? I just know you're busy a lot, and..." I looked at my picture of the list. "It says the volleyball team and robotics club meet Fridays after school."  
  
Peter and I dipped out of the room, and walked down the hallway. There were, like, six janitor closets down this corridor that we had to pass to reach the staircase. Peter's cheeks were a rosy pink, and he reached to the staircase door, holding it open for me. "You know what, Friday after school sounds great. We'll tackle volleyball _and_ robotics club. I actually have to go, right now, and I'm busy after school, so I'll see you in Chem?"  
  
"Uh, yeah," I said, surprised at his sudden need to leave. "Do you... work tonight or something? Where do you work?"  
  
"I-... don't," he stuttered. "I'll see you tomorrow, though. Later, Diana."  
  
And he practically sprinted up the stairs and out of the doors. I had literally repelled someone to run away from me.  
  
I stopped on the mid stair platform, and leaned against the railing. Why was I socially awkward, like, ninety percent of the time? It wasn't weird that Peter had to leave. Maybe he forgot that he had an appointment or something. I stared down at my hands and sighed. Was it the gloves? Were they a weird accessory or something? Or did I accidentally, like, glow through them? I slid against the wall, swimming in the possibilities.  
  
"You good?"  
  
I spun to face the door, the voice erupting in the empty corridor like a flow of lava. In the doorway stood the firm figure of the lone kid from Yearbook, leaning against the open door. The flickering light from the hall illuminated his frame, but her broke the pattern when he approached me at the bottom of the stairs.  
  
"Diana, right?" the guy said, scratching his brown locks, studying my face. I shifted against the wall, not weirded out, but not oblivious to the fact that it was just the two of us down here.  
  
"Yeah," I confirmed, meeting his gaze. "And you're, um..."  
  
"Harry," he supplied. "I just transferred here, from across Queens. I met Betty in homeroom, and she, uh, told me about your club."  
  
"Not my club," I said, relaxing a bit, gripping the bottom of the railing with my glove. "I'm a sophomore. Second year doing this."  
  
Harry nodded, squinting at the window at the top of the stairs that streamed light into the corridor. "Me too. As a sophomore, I mean. You're into photography, right? Betty said I was kind of an odd one out and could just rotate between groups. I was hoping I could start with yours and Peter's?"  
  
I paused. I didn't want to speak for Peter. But, we were going to be paired up with this guy eventually, and they seemed like they would get along well. "Sure," I sputtered, not wanting to disappoint. "Why not?"

  
"Awesome," Harry said, smiling at me with a glint in his eye. "Is there some kind of practise coming up that you guys are going to? An event? Or do you just kind of go around with cameras looking for shots?"

  
"Volleyball meets on Fridays after school," I said, with a strange hint of regret. I was just repeating what I said to Peter. "Could you make that?"

  
"Sounds good," Harry said, still grinning. Not cute-grinning, but kind of sly-grinning. Almost a smirk. "See you then."

  
And with that, Harry turned around and went back down the basement hall. I had no idea what just happened, but it seemed that Harry would be joining Peter and I. So, hopefully, that shouldn't be a problem.

  
* * *


	5. Coffee Shops, and Why I Have No Friends

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana takes a day with Madison out on the town trying to cover up the results of her situation... AKA, her glowstick scars. Interrogations, too! (but not about what you might think).

The rest of the day was pretty uneventful. After meeting Harry at lunch, I realised that he was in my shop class. He sat, I'm pretty sure, where Peter should have, but I couldn't remember his exact seat. Peter had only shown up a few times the first week, and was gone today- not a good track record to start the year with.

"Isn't he nice?" Nitara said to me as we were walking home. "He helped me split the wood. I've been trying to do that all last week."  
  
"I thought you were good at shop," I mused, wanting to move onto another subject other than school.

Nitara rolled her eyes as we crossed the street, on the corner of Winter. "Harry's better than me. I'd rather learn new stuff."  
  
I shrugged, stopping at the corner by the store I had gone into this morning. "I guess that makes sense. But hey, did you happen to get working on my blouse?"  
  
"I left it at home to soak- hey!" Nitara pointed at the sky, and I tried to follow her finger unsuccessfully. "Check it out! Did you see him? The Spider-Man?"  
  
I raised my eyebrows at Nitara, and she cocked her head at me like I had been living under a rock. "Hello? Spider-Man? From Youtube, and the Avengers and stuff?"  
  
I shrugged again. "I don't really catch up with that stuff."  
  
I was about to say goodbye to Nitara when I saw him too. My eyes were as wide as saucers when he swung, like on a rope attached to a building, across the street, a couple blocks ahead of us. "Nevermind! I'm catching up. That was cool. How is that even physics-"  
  
"What?" Nitara said, squinting in the same direction. "He's gone."  
  
"No," I said truthfully. "He's just over- oh, he turned."  
  
Nitara huffed. "Darn. I don't know how he does it- but then again, he's affiliated with the Avengers. Tony Stark's tech is crazy."  
  
"Yeah," I breathed, staring at the part of the sky where the so-called Spider-Man once was. "See you tomorrow."  
  
Nitara was already halfway down her street when I zoned back in and stumbled on my way home. I never really cared about superheroes- Bruce Banner was an exception, even though he's gone AWOL again. This Spider guy sounded interesting, though. I had seen clips and bits of the Avengers in the news, of course- but ever since my dad died in the battle of New York, its been tiring to think about. Even nearly five years later. But I was pretty sure Spider-Man wasn't an Avenger anyways, having not really heard of him, so I steered my mind away from the subject.  
  
When I reached my building on Ascan Avenue, the door to my apartment was unlocked. That meant that Madison was off from work today, so I got to see her face to face when I walked through the door. It seemed she was making something in the kitchen, but when I walked in, she dropped the knife into the sink and gaped at me. "Finally! You know, I haven't seen you over a whole day-"  
  
Madison's chocolate hair fell in curls over her face as she rushed over to where I stood. Her hair, although the same colour of mine, was infinitely curlier than my sad waves that resembled frizz half the time. I was entangled in a hug by my older sister. "I don't work tonight. Do you want to go out? We can go get some Starbucks? And go shopping, maybe. I just got a raise at work. We can celebrate, my treat."  
  
Madison didn't elaborate on her raise because apparently, she worked at some secret company that even knowing the name of was dangerous. She worked day hours and night hours and call ins and as curious as I was, it let us keep the apartment we had lived in ever since my mom decided to live here when dad died. Now that they're both gone, we found it easier to build a new life on old foundations. Nitara speculated that Madison worked as a spy, or talked about how some technology companies worked against hackers and were extremely confidential. I, on the other hand, thought that maybe she worked at some secret drug lab like OSCORP or something. Because as much as I tried, I couldn't picture Madison as a spy. She was too... pure, maybe. She worried a lot. And she gets upset when she kills a spider. My sister was not a hitman.  
  
"Are you sure?" I asked Madison, shoving my Spanish verbs out of my mind. "We could just get coffee, if it helps."  
  
"Absolutely not," Madison said. "It's already in my bank account. I forgot to tell you a couple days ago, and then I couldn't yesterday, so here we are. You can breeze through your homework, right? Then we'll have plenty of time?"  
  
"No homework," I beamed, thankful for my teachers not going all out after school began. "I'll go get ready now."  
  
Madison grinned and grabbed her wallet from where we both kept ours, on top of the fridge and out of sight. I hurried to my room, and closed the door behind me. I had a pretty mediocre room. A wooden twin bed with posts in the middle of the small space, and a plaid quilt that my other older sister Vienna had sewn me. It was purple, white, silver and black striped, and was also the warmest thing I owned. Vienna has always had a sunny vibe after she moved out a couple years ago to live in the country, a good two-hour drive from Madison and I.  
  
But anyway, directly across my bed was tiny closet that had all my clothes squeezed inside. Beside it was my bookshelf, and that concluded my furniture. I did have a large window, though my only view was the apartment directly across from me. In a rush, I brushed my hair and swooped over to my mirror. After a day of no makeup, I didn't look half bad, but I was self conscious enough to retouch my cheeks before draping my bag over my bedpost, it's usual place.  
  
The streets were busier than they were when I was walking home ten minutes ago with Nitara. I mainly followed the top of Madison's head in the sidewalk crowd when we finally reached a block with both Starbucks and other stores. I wasn't sure where we would end up first, but I saw Madison dip into the Starbucks entrance so I trailed behind. The bustling sounds of chatter from the streets drowned out once the door closed behind me, followed with a chime from the handle. There were a couple of people in a booth, but other than that, a quiet pop mix was the only noise coming from the store.  
  
Madison took my hand and pulled me over to the counter. "What do you want?"  
  
I bit my lip. I could get a drink, but I had no idea how the sizes here worked. Venti, grande, tall, something else, probably not in that order. I didn't really drink coffee, and I've heard Nitara talk about some kind of secret menu, but I had no idea how that worked.  
  
"I'll have a blueberry bagel," I told the worker who arrived at the counter.  
  
The worker, who's nametag said 'Wren', nodded and simply pressed a button on the computer.  
  
"Oh, come on, D," Madison said. "Have a drink or something. Do you want coffee?"  
  
"I don't like coffee," I explained, something I assumed Madison already knew.  
  
"Really?" Wren said. "You've never needed that extra kick start to a day? I salute you."  
  
I looked from Wren to my sister and back to Wren, who grinned and shrugged. "She'll have a grande pink drink," Madison told Wren.  
  
"I don't even know what that is," I said to no one in particular.  
  
Madison ignored me. "I'll have a tall pumpkin spice latte with an extra caramel shot and a muffin," she said to Wren. "Any muffin."  
  
"Okay, I know enough to know how basic that is," I told Madison, who flicked her finger at me, making me wince and Wren laugh.  
  
"Eleven-fifty," Wren announced, tightening the back of their melon coloured apron. "And your names?"  
  
"Madison and Diana," my sister said, and pointed at me. "That's Diana. Feel free to butcher her name."  
  
I scoffed at Madison as she hopped over to a table and jumped on a stool. "So tell me," she said, "how's school going for you? I remember when I was in grade ten, we had someone set the gymnasium curtains on fire with a cigarette. That was only the second week."  
  
"Well, we're more boring than that, unfortunately," I said, but Madison looked pleased that I couldn't top her story. "We're doing partners for the yearbook. I'm with this one guy and a new kid."  
  
"Oh, yeah?" Madison said, interested. "Are you doing anything exclusive?"  
  
I had only opened my mouth when Wren came up to our table with Madison's muffin and latte, and my own bagel and pink drink. "Thanks," Madison said, as Wren smiled and walked back to the counter. "So, I- oh, wow."  
  
Madison spun her latte around, paper facing me. I read her name, and snorted. "Madesin," I said. "Wren's a winner."  
  
I looked at the side of my drink, and the name on the tag was spelled correctly. "Cheers," I said, raising my pink drink and sipping some.  
  
"Well?" Madison said. "How is it?"  
  
I put my drink on the table and reached for my bagel. "It tastes like creamy unicorn tears."  
  
Madison laughed. "I don't think you're ready for coffee."  
  
"As I was saying," I continued, eyeing her down when she kept laughing, "We're assigned on photography. So it's basically the best part of last year, only it's all I'll be doing this year. With two other people."  
  
"That's not so bad," Madison replied, having calmed down. "Have you tried any other clubs? I did it a lot just to get my mind off things, like the move and stuff. Oh, like band! Or decathlon! I didn't join GSA until I was a junior, but it's never too early to sign up for stuff, you know."  
  
"Maybe," I pondered, weighing my options. "I'm not that good at clarinet, though. And I don't want to join clubs without people I know."  
  
"You joined yearbook last year," Madison pointed out. "You didn't know anyone."  
  
"That was different," I explained. "Nobody knew anyone. Now people don't do stuff alone, because everyone in a club already knows each other. People don't like leeches."  
  
"You're not a leech," Madison said, finishing her muffin. "Maybe if you joined more clubs, you would meet more people. Nitara is amazing, but don't you want to have more friends?"  
  
I shrugged. Here I was, in a Starbucks, being interrogated for having no friends by my sister. I was happy with just Nitara- some people my age were painful to be around. For example, the entirety of Midtown's basketball team. And even if I wanted to get to know more people, there really wasn't anybody not in some sort of clique to do that with.  
  
Madison slid off her stool, already done with her latte. "Well?"  
  
"I don't need to meet more people," I told her. "You're being kind of dramatic. Aren't you supposed to talk about relationships and stuff more than friends? Isn't that like, your job as a sister?"  
  
"You think I know a thing about relationships?" Madison huffed, holding the door open after exiting only to let go and have it slam into me.  
  
"Thanks a lot," I grumbled, catching up to Madison.  
  
The street was less busy now. Other schools in the area ended a little later than Midtown, so the crowd was probably the home rush. "Where should we go?" Madison asked me, searching all the stores on the block. "Do you like it over there?"  
  
'Over there' turned out to be the store next to the shop that I went into this morning to buy my gloves. I nodded, and Madison and I hurried to cross the street. I made sure to keep to the right side of Madison, because I wanted to keep the glove questions minimal, and if she saw the store, all I would hear for the rest of the day would be yap, yap, yap, gloves, and I was tired already.  
  
This time I held the door open for Madison, and she entered quickly before I could let it close on her. Rolling my eyes, I went inside the store.  
  
Flannels lines the wall when I walked in, and on counters in front of those sat piles of jeans and all sorts of denim. There was an assortment of little fedora hats strung on a pole next to the bench, and on the other side of the store there were rows and rows of colourful cardigans and more shirts. "I'm going to go look at swimsuits," Madison said. "Pick out a few things. You know, like all the back to school shopping you haven't done for a while."  
  
As Madison walked over to the corner of the store, I called, "how much was your raise?" but she didn't answer. I figured that to be a good thing.  
  
* * *  
  
One hour and thirty minutes later I was struggling in the changeroom putting on my sixth cardigan. I was only going to get one, but there was a long violet one or a light gray one that scooped at the back that were my favourites, and I had asked Madison her opinion on both of them three times over already. I wasn't sure why I liked cardigans so much lately. Pockets were nice to have, though, and the violet one had big square ones at both sides of the yarn.  
  
"Hey D," Madison said, her voice floating over from the other side of the changeroom. "I found you some more tops. Will you show me this time?"  
  
I opened the door, wearing the violet cardigan, begrudgingly taking the tops from Madison's hands. "This is the third time you've given me a bundle of shirts."  
  
"And that's the second time you've come out in that cardigan," Madison said. "Can I see you in some of these? Pretty please?"  
  
I sighed and tried to count the number of tops in my hands. "I'll try them on. Hang around." Madison smiled as I swung the changeroom door shut. Truthfully, I hadn't tried on any shirts. I had chosen a pair of pants and black leggings, but wasn't super excited about shirts. I reluctantly took off the cardigan and decided to put it straight in the yes pile and chose a white floral from the bunch, and hung it on a hook as I took my shirt off. I didn't even look at my back before I felt it ache. In fact, I faced the mirror in spite of it and pulled on the shirt.  
  
"How's it fit?" Madison asked from outside the changeroom.  
  
"It's a... crop top," I said back, feeling totally different than how I sounded. There was no fabric covering my shoulders or lower back. I might as well forget crop tops even existed.  
  
"I thought you liked crops," Madison said. "They were practically all you wore in the summer."  
  
That was true. I saw one in a store in July, tried it on, and wondered what I've been missing out on. I used to look good in them, but now that I had ten million electric purple fireflies shooting through my palms and spine, I wouldn't consider it an attractive aspect anymore.  
  
"It's not summer anymore," I said, throwing it in the no pile after I took it off. I put my regular shirt back on, grabbed the two pants and cardigan, and left the changeroom, almost bumping into Madison on my way out, who was leaning right next to the door.  
  
Did I feel bad about the twenty something shirts I had left on the stool? A little bit. But I had other things to worry about, I thought. Like how easily Madison pulled out her debit card and swiped away two hundred and thirty dollars. She must have gotten her best raise yet, because this is the most we've spent on clothes for as long as I can remember.  
  
As we walked out of the store and onto the sidewalk, Madison and I were hit with a mellow orange glow from the sun that had already begun to dip between the buildings and splash light on the streets. I swung the bag around my wrist, waiting for Madison to point the way.  
  
I thought Madison would suggest we go home, but her next words totally surprised me. "Do you want to call Nitara and have dinner together? I can give you a twenty. Chewie needs fed, and I need to go sign some stuff at home, but you can have fun, if you want."  
  
My hand flew to my back pocket and pulled out my phone to call Nitara. Feeling a shred of guilt, I took the crumpled twenty dollar bill from Madison and slipped it in the back of my phone case. "Call me around nine, just to update me on when you'll be back, alright?"  
  
I looked up at Madison. Usually she'd be telling me to be home by nine, or before dark. She took my gaze as a sign to explain herself. "You'll be with Nitara, so I trust you guys to just be careful. But don't forget to call me at nine. And you guys weren't supposed to hang out or anything later, right?"

"Nope," I clarified, the lie from the night in the alley resurfacing in my head. "And if we decide to do anything, I'll let you know."  
  
"Okay," Madison said, hiking up her purse so it sat snugly on her shoulder. "Are you going to call Nitara?"  
  
I blinked, holding my phone in my glove. "Yeah. I will."


	6. The Wonders of Laundry Detergent, and a Taste of Revenge

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After meeting with Nitara, Diana runs into a figure she would have rather not seen again, and calls him an asshat (big mistake).

"I'll see you tonight, D," Madison said, smiling with a tinge of awkwardness. She turned around, and followed the light crowd back to our apartment building, only some blocks away. I scanned the sidewalk, and saw a wrought iron bench outside a store next to the one we had just shopped at.   
  
Upon further inspection, the seats were rusted, and there were stains and recycled gum sticking to the armrests. I carefully chose my spot to sit, missing the majority of filth. I crossed my legs and took off my glove in the eyes of nobody but me. Instinctively, I pressed the home button, but my phone didn't unlock.  
  
I couldn't get out of the habit of using the touch ID on my phone, even when now, it didn't work. My fingerprints were, apparently, unrecognisable. On one hand, I couldn't automatically unlock my phone. On the other, it made it much easier to rob banks if the opportunity ever arose.  
  
I typed in my birthday into the number pad, manually opening the phone app. Nitara was the first contact, so I simply pressed her and held the phone close to my ear.  
  
I read somewhere that it was bad to hold your cell phone by your head, because of radiation or something. I slept with my phone a ways from my pillow now, but in the moment, I couldn't care less about it. All I could think about was Nitara and food.  
  
On the third ring, she picked up. "Diana? I was just about to text you; I found some extra time and finished your work uniform-"  
  
That caught me by surprise. "Already?"  
  
"Yep." Her voice crackled. "What's up?"  
  
"I'm on the school route," I explained, looking down the street in the direction of Nitara's apartment. "Did you want to meet me for food?"  
  
"Yeah!" Nitara said, and I could hear shuffling in the background of her call. "I'll be there in five."   
  
I started to say goodbye, but the dial tone hummed once again. Nitara often ended calls like this with everybody, so I didn't take it personally. Instead, I slipped my glove back on and waited.  
  
Ten minutes later, I see Nitara wave down the sidewalk holding a bag around her wrist. I stood up, and my back screamed in protest.  
  
God, I was only a sophomore and I had back problems. It wasn't the classic strain, though, but more of an amplified version of what I felt in the store. A burn that I felt radiating through my clothing.  
I grimaced when Nitara walked up, but I fixed my posture as she did.  
  
Nothing slips by Nitara. "Are you okay? You look like you swallowed a bug."  
  
"...Hiccups," I said, grasping my bag and walking again with Nitara. After walking more, the feeling went away. I only hoped that it wasn't from the alley incident and that I wasn't slowly dying. Nitara trailed my eyes. "Where did you want to go?"  
  
I thought for a moment. "Well, I have twenty dollars from Madison, so... we could go to the deli grocery, if you want. It's only, like, four blocks from here, and probably the cheapest option."  
  
Nitara nodded, and thrusted her bag at me as we walked. "Here. I sewed the shirt, bleached it, and I even ironed the pants a couple hours ago. They're still kind of warm."  
  
I took the handles and opened the bag. I could hardly believe my eyes. No stains.  
  
"That black stuff really was a bitch to clean," Nitara hummed. "I soaked it forever. It dried up and was super gross and I kind of felt bad for putting it down the drain, because, well... it did that to you."  
  
"We don't have to talk about that," I said, scraping the subject off the table. It made me uncomfortable just thinking about the scars and I didn't want to picture the lightshow at the same time that I felt like a white-hot chainsaw was slicing across my spine.  
  
"Okay," said Nitara, becoming quiet. "...But it's better if you do."  
  
"Not for me," I said, sounding regrettably bitter. "I like to forget it's there."  
  
"See, now you're talking about it," Nitara said as we crossed a bend.   
  
"Did you want to spend the night tonight?" I said, changing the subject and ejecting myself out of Nitara's pool of reverse psychology.  
  
Somehow that worked. "I can definitely! Is it okay if we stop at my apartment on the way back? I'll grab stuff and tell dad. By the way, I should be back to do that around ten, so..."  
  
"Two hours and fifteen minutes," I said. "Got it."  
  
"That's what I was getting to," Nitara said as we both laughed. I wasn't one to underestimate Nitara's math skills. They were better than mine. I used to be really good at it, and then I was just kind of mind-boggled at the term quadratic. So went down my math mark in a y=3x kind of way.  
  
Eventually, we reached the deli grocery on the corner. I opened the door with Nitara, which was a pro to having gloves- I had no fear of opening dirty door handles. The bell atop the door chimed, and a short man looked behind the counter at us.   
  
I approached him, and Nitara ran into the first aisle. "Two veggie burgers, please," I said as he typed into the register. "And two cups of water."  
  
"And sour patch kids," Nitara said, slapping down two boxes of candy on the counter that made a couple business cards next to the cash register fly over.  
  
"Fourteen dollars, girls," the man said with his accent. I couldn't pinpoint it, but it sounded European. I passed him the twenty, and in return had six bills due. "They'll be just a few minutes."  
  
"Thank you!" Nitara called as the man gave a wave and walked to a different counter. I made my way to the only table in the grocery, which was a three-seater in the window. I slid my bags, both full of clothes, in between the corner chairs so they were out of the way. Nitara had only sat down with me when we were called for our waters, and when she brought them back to the table, we were called for our food.   
  
"I got them only because you paid," Nitara said, plopping down two little cardboard boxes next to our paper water cups. As soon as I opened the lid, I was engulfed in a light steam.  
Nitara tossed a ketchup package at me, and it landed on my burger bun. It was easy to rip the tab off with my gloves, but then I second guessed my method of eating without getting the gloves dirty. My bagel was easy, a burger was not.  
  
"You can take off your gloves," Nitara whispered, reading my mind. "This place is empty. It's okay."  
  
I put my hands in my lap. "I know it's okay." Then, after a moment, I slipped my gloves off under the table, and tucked them between my thighs. I was fast at bringing them back up and grabbing my food, and Nitara didn't make a point of looking at them.  
  
On the other hand, the veggie burger was good. I hadn't had hardly any water today, so I was glad to have a cup of it too. By the time I finished the burger, Nitara had finished her sour patch kids. I decided to pocket mine for later.  
  
I was about to make a grab for my gloves when I felt my phone buzz in my pocket. I pulled it out, and the caller ID said, "Madison". I figured, this time, I would answer it.  
  
"Hey," I said, ducking my hand behind my hair, hoping it would minimize the glowing. It probably didn't.  
  
"Diana, hi, listen- I won't be here when you get home tonight, okay?"  
  
I clung the phone tight around my fingers. It sounded like Madison was moving quickly, or in some kind of hurry.   
  
"I got called in," she said, sounding disappointed. "I'm sorry. I won't be home until tomorrow. Would you be able to feed Chewie? I- I forgot and now I can't."  
  
"Yeah, of course," I said. "I will, right when I get home."  
  
"Okay." Madison paused for a moment. "I'll see you tomorrow, okay?"  
  
"Tomorrow," I said, saying goodbye. "Bye."  
  
Madison hung up, and Nitara was looking at me with curiosity. "Did you want to come over? I have to feed Chewie. Madison got called in."  
  
"Yeah," Nitara said. "I can stay, if you want. As long as we stop by my apartment, because I need to get clothes for tomorrow and stuff."  
  
I put my phone away and slipped my gloves back on. "Sure." Nitara's apartment wasn't exactly out of the way. Winter Street was only two blocks from Ascan, after all. "It's weird," I started. "You don't just forget to feed Chewie. He follows you endlessly."  
  
Nitara stood up, and gave a wave to the man who got us our food. "Why would she lie?"  
  
I shrugged and held the door open for Nitara. "I don't know. Beats me how someone could just drop everything and go to work. I'd have to stop home first. "  
  
Nitara and I crossed the street. It had gotten darker now. "You think she didn't go back at all?"  
  
"I don't know. You don't just forget about Chewie, though, so it's weird."  
  
Nitara stuffed her hands in her pockets, even though it was a mild night out. "Definitely weird."  
  
Nitara and I continued to walk down the sidewalk through the thin crowd that dissipated mostly when we got off of the block from the deli grocery. In fact, the only movement on the next street was a plastic bag blowing softly across the street like a tumbleweed in a desert.  
  
"So," Nitara began. "When we get to your place, did you want to-"  
  
As if on cue, Nitara's innocent offer was vividly interrupted by a bloodcurdling scream that came from the alley we had just walked past.  
  
"Fuck no," I whispered in the following silence. "Not an alley. No."  
  
Nitara whipped out her phone. "We need to look," she recommended. "What if nobody heard? We should call the police."  
  
I stood there, on the sidewalk, two sides of my mind arguing. I so didn't want to go down another troubled alleyway, but then how would I feel for the rest of the night knowing that somebody may have needed our help? I mean, I wasn't much. Just a hundred pound fifteen-year-old who knew a vague amount of wrestling moves from action movies. I also knew that movie turnouts were usually better than real life.  
  
"Shit," I whispered. "Fine."  
  
I suppose that if I were being robbed in an alley, I would want somebody to help me, too. But when Nitara and I looked over the corner wall, my blood froze. This was so much worse than a robber.  
"We have to help," Nitara said, staring at the scene of the woman against the wall, being held by a metal wing of a certain opponent of mine. "We can't just watch this happen-"  
  
" _Nitara_ ," I hissed, feeling my face turn white as a sheet. "That's him."  
  
Nitara stared at me for a minute, and then her eyes widened. "No," she breathed. "You ran away from _that?_ "  
  
"Yeah, and remember how it turned out," I whispered, peering at the woman in distress. "Here's what we're going to do. We'll yell at him, make sure he sees me, and if we're lucky he'll recognise me from last night, even though it's dark. Then we'll run back to the deli grocery street; he won't show himself on a busy road. We can blend in with the crowd, and the woman will have time to run away."  
  
"Okay," Nitara said, and I forced myself not to think about consequences as I darted into plain view of the bird guy.  
  
"Hey asshat!"  
  
I heard Nitara scold me for that, but I had a plethora of words that I wanted to say to this man's face. He turned, and the woman shrunk against the wall a little less, and once he saw me, or more specifically, who I was, he dropped his hold against her and took a slow step up the alley. He was still far, but I was definitely within range of him.  
  
I saw the woman try to scramble to her feet, but behind her, I also saw the fence in the middle of the alley once the two separated.  
  
Shit.  
  
I stood where I was, trying to redirect the plan in my brain. That woman had nowhere to run. If Nitara and I made him lose interest in us, he would go likely go back to her.  
  
"D," Nitara fret, tugging on my sleeve. "Time to go."  
  
"There's no way out," I said, glued to the spot. "I see a fence."  
  
Nitara was breathing heavy now that he got closer, with a creaking metal stomp each step he took on the concrete. Since we weren't moving, I guess bird man thought he could take his time. "What? How can you see that? It's pitch _black_ down there-"  
  
"Stay behind me," I said, grabbing Nitara's wrist and pulling it behind mine. I took a step forward, and pulled off my gloves that were sticking to the light sweat on my hand. I found Nitara's hand behind me, and stuffed them in her palm.   
  
The radiant violet was free to emit from my hands now, and they illuminated the dark air. I took a few steps ahead of Nitara, until I knew I was within hearing distance. If I came off as all talk, then maybe- just _maybe_ \- things didn't have to get worse.  
  
"See what you did," I said, my voice shaking as much as my legs. My hands were easy to see. I didn't have to hold them up. "You did this."  
  
Bird man must have pressed a button or something, because with a clank, his half-helmet retracted into his suit, revealing the smirking face of, possibly, a mid-forties blond. "I'm glad you're here. I've been meaning to undo it."  
  
I froze. "Undo it?"  
  
His smirk turned into a full grin. "Sweetheart, I wish I didn't have to do this. You seem nice. But consider yourself _lucky_... to die at the hands of the Vulture."  
  
My heart dropped in my chest as the wing he used to pin the woman to the wall slammed straight into my side before I could react. The cool metal dug into my side as it swept me off my feet and against the wall of the adjacent building. I couldn't help but feel the déjà vu as I log rolled three-sixty away from the wall, and glared up at the Vulture, turning toward me. I vaguely heard Nitara calling for me, but I was purely focused on this Vulture dude. Until, that is, Nitara took a few steps forward.  
  
Vulture raised his wing. "It's a shame you both have a death wish," he said. "I'm truly against doing this."  
  
"Then _stop!_ " Nitara cried, wavering over whether she should run up to me or not.  
  
"No," said Vulture in a menacing tone. "I don't-"  
  
My next moves were baffling to all four of us and based on nothing but authentic instinct, like I had convinced myself not to think- similarly to jumping in front of the alley and calling my murderer-to-be an asshat. The slices he had made in my side suddenly were the least of my worries as he started toward Nitara. I felt a buzz in my back, running through my hands like current through a wire, and on demand, a flash of violet swept from behind me in a blazing trail and latched its way around Vulture's boot. My hands were hot, but my back was on _fire_.  
  
It was like a lasso, only I couldn't seem to recognise the origins. But it was the same energy that he hit me with from his weapon, and the same energy that flowed through me. I instinctively sent a shockwave through it like a cable, and his entire robotic leg smoked and then, like a dying lightbulb, dimmed until it worked no more.  
  
Nitara shuffled backwards, and I rose to my feet. Vulture, operating on one leg only, pivoted to look straight at me.   
  
I didn't let him speak.  
  
Another wave of long, violet trails extracted themselves from right behind me, and found a home laced around every limb of the suit. One, two, three, four. The trails ignited around the metal, and I pressed the thought as hard as I could that they would slice clean through.  
  
I had no idea what his suit was made of, but I heard the searing creak of metal tearing and saw a foot of the suit falling loose. The rest of the trails stunned the remainder of his ensemble, and it was like a blackout hit him, cutting off his power.  
  
The trails, as quickly as they emerged, returned to me. They got shorter, shorter and shorter until they ultimately disappeared behind my back, making my spine sizzle just as they left. Vulture was frozen in place, and the woman inched her way against the wall from the back of the alley to the side that Nitara and I occupied.   
  
"Yes," Nitara said, and I turned around to her talking on her phone. "No. He's still. He tried to rob a woman. No, she's here. I have to go-"  
  
Nitara hung up.  
  
"D," she said. "What the fuck."  
  
I turned to the woman. "Maybe go wait for the police one street over."  
  
She nodded, and fled the alley, probably with more relief than Nitara and I combined.  
  
"Are we staying? He doesn't seem to be going anywhere," Nitara asked, as I pulled her out of the alley, away from Vulture, now probably just a sad, bored criminal.  
  
"Hell no," I choked. At the end of the alley, I held up one of my fingers at Vulture, and then we ran the way we were originally going before the incident. "Thanks for calling the police."  
  
"They sounded excited," Nitara said, sprinting faster than me. "Like they were looking for him."  
  
"Well," I said, slowing down a little, gasping for breath. "Now they've got him."  
  
Still moving, Nitara slowed to a jog for me as we started to round the corner. "You're bleeding, aren't you? From the wing? Move your hand."  
  
"Keep moving," I said, hiding my hands in the clutches of fabric from my shirt. I started down the next street, but ran straight into somebody, causing both of us to go spinning.  
  
We were under a streetlight. I kept my hands in fists to conceal my palms, and stared at who I had just hit. Peter Parker, criminal chemist, tardy photographer, was only a foot away from me and regaining his posture.  
  
We both gave each other extremely weird looks, and I could tell he noticed the blood covering my knuckles and shirt, plus the scraped knees on both pants that Nitara and I sported. Peter, he had crazy messy hair and a bulky backpack around his shoulders. We were both incredibly out of breath.  
  
We stood like that for an awkward five seconds, judging each other, and I figured now was an inappropriate time to ask when we could meet up for yearbook, so I gave him a quick nod. He did the same, and we crossed paths in adjacent directions.  
  
Thankfully, he didn't go down the street with Vulture chilling in the alley. I was slightly more content, now that I could hear sirens from some blocks over.  
  
I ran ahead of Nitara, trying my best not to relive the feeling of the metal wing cutting through me. As we got closer to home, I felt a few drops of rain touch my face and I realised how hot and exhausted I was feeling, contrasted to the cool water.  
  
As we finally reached our street, thankfully not running into anybody else, a full on downpour had begun. I could hear sirens in the far distance, although they didn't appear on the road until Nitara and I had reached the sidewalk across from my building.  
  
There were at least three police cars that swooped past right as we were about to cross, destroying the calm puddles in the unpaved street that reflected streetlights and flashing red and blue sirens. Once it was clear, I ran through the road before the next car passed along with Nitara.   
  
We got honked at by them, probably because I crossed slow, but I didn't care about that as much as I cared about the reason why I was slow- my side. I kept my arm clutched just underneath my ribs as Nitara swung open my apartment door, and we escaped from the rain into the dimly lit building.  
  
The door swung shut behind us, and the inside of the lobby was silent, with the exception of my heavy breathing from running so fun.  
  
Nitara dropped my bags on the floor and leaned against the wall in exhaustion, and she looked how I felt. I hunched over, gripping my side and catching my breath. We were silent until Nitara said, "shoot. I have to tell dad that I'm staying here."  
  
I answered after another wheeze. "Can't you just call? I have extra pyjamas. And an old sweater I borrowed that you can wear tomorrow. You know? That magenta one?"  
  
Nitara yawned. "You have that? I was looking for it."  
  
I shrugged lightlyand made my way over to the staircase, opening the heavy door handle with my pinkie since most of my hand was covered in blood. I could only hope that the security cameras didn't catch the purple glare coming from me.  
  
***


	7. Espionage, and the Definition of a Hero

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Nitara recover from the events of the same night, and while reeling start to suspect Madison of spying. But was it really her? Also, Nitara bugs Diana enough to finally choose a name.

When I got home, the door was locked.  
  
This was no surprise, really, considering that Madison was paranoid about leaving it unlocked even when we were home. I guess she had a thing with burglars or something, although we've never been robbed. No one in the building has been. We all respect each other, except for the odd woman on the fifth floor who always has her television blaring and doesn't keep the many men and women she brings over a secret. Sometimes I do wish the building was more soundproof.   
  
I fumbled in my pocket for my keys, and hastily unlocked the door with my wet fingers. I was careful not to touch the door, so Nitara pushed it open for me. I used my elbow to try and find the light switch on the wall to my left, and after bumping a picture frame a few times, I successfully turned on the bare lightbulb attached to the ceiling and the connected ornate lamp in the corner of the kitchenette.  
The navy walls of my apartment were illuminated, and I heard a thump come from my bedroom followed by four feet tapping the floor. I could hear each step individually, going _tap tap tap_ until Chewie waltzed around from behind the couch and sat in front of his food bowl, waiting for his dinner which he knew was late.  
  
"I'll feed him," Nitara said, just as I opened the cupboard under the sink that we kept his diet food in. "You go to the bathroom and clean yourself up."  
  
I wasn't going to argue with Nitara's proposition. Not only was I covered in New York's signature city street dust, but blood still soaked my shirt, and I could feel the stain getting larger.  
  
I tried to crouch as I walked to feel better about it, with my lower arm clenched between my stomach and my chest. This felt like reverse period cramps. I didn't bother closing the bathroom door, but I did kick the bath mat away from the middle of the small room so I wouldn't stain it. Madison would go nuts if I did- if there was one thing my sister liked, it was a quality bath mat and I didn't want to ruin the only one in our household.   
  
I heard kibble tumble into Chewie's bowl from the main room, accompanied by a happy meow as I peeled off my shirt. Nitara could walk in any second, but I didn't care. She has already seen my back.  
I stood in front of the cabinet mirror, blood already having found its way to the black marble floor beneath me. My stomach was entirely red, but I could see a deep scarlet line running parallel to my waist that told me the gash was not as bad as it appeared to be at a first glance.   
  
I sacrificed a worn facecloth off the clean rack that would probably never become clean again. I ran it under the tap, though through the running water I heard Nitara turn on the television from the other room. Once the cloth was wet, I wrung it out and wiped the blood from my skin, which quickly transmitted from me to the fabric. I was right about the cut- it was only three or so inches wide, and thin.   
  
Reluctantly, I took another face cloth that was dry and held it to my stomach to stop any more bleeding and walked into the main room, closing the curtains as my first course of action. I didn't need anybody looking through the window and seeing a) my stomach bleeding, or b) my purple back, or c) me topless in general.   
  
Nitara was on the couch, watching the news. I knew I shouldn't have been surprised when on the screen was the exact setting from earlier tonight- the alley, dark and misty as we left it- except there was no Vulture.  
  
I rushed over to the back of the couch, eyes fixated on the screen. "Do you think they got him?"  
  
"Quiet," Nitara hushed, turning the volume up with the remote. There was an interviewer on the screen, holding a microphone to a woman. _The_ woman, who we had already met as she was cornered by Vulture.  
  
"It was insane," the woman described. "I tried to call the police, but as soon as I described him, he destroyed my phone. I couldn't even say my location.  
  
"Until another girl called- her friend, she could- I don't believe what I even saw. Just streaks of this violet lightning, coming from her back, and somehow it shut him down."  
  
The interviewer stood without words for a moment, then said, "Iconic. It sounds like wherever she is, we'd like to find her. Folks, this is the latest on the Vulture, so he called himself, before..." the interviewer turned to the woman.  
  
"Sparking and flying away," she described. "There was just an initial shock, and then the girls left, I escaped... this whole night is just one big nightmare. I know it's not agreed upon everywhere... but I'm glad there are heroes in this city, and here in Queens."  
  
The camera turned to the left, assessing the police and the rest of the scene, where some officers stood talking to some detectives. A figure in a dark jacket and a hand in front of their face dashed behind an unmarked car, and disappeared when the car took off not four seconds later.  
  
"Wack," Nitara said.  
  
"Wait," I said, running around the couch. "Rewind it. That person..."  
  
Nitara used the remote to go back about fifteen seconds, and we waited for the figure to move again. "There!"  
  
Nitara jolted when I said that and slammed the pause button, freezing the figure in the middle of the screen, unblocked by nothing but their hand. I moved closer to the screen, inspecting what I thought I saw the first time.  
  
"Come here," I said to Nitara. "Do you see the ring?"  
  
On the hand that covered the face of the anonymous, was a strawberry red ring on the middle finger. "Madison has a ring like that. I gave it to her years ago. It's her birthday month. Garnet coloured."  
The individual (Madison?) had their hood up, and the pure black fabric hid any other identifiable features except for complexion. "Keep it on pause," I said, a growing feeling expanding through my chest. "I'm going to see if the ring is here."  
  
Could that have actually been Madison? She got called in to work over an hour ago. If that were her, I had no clue what she would be doing at a crime scene. Detectives weren't normally fussy with their identities.   
  
I opened the door to my sister's room, which was only illuminated by the moonlight. I dashed to her nightstand, where all her jewellery was kept. I tore her drawer open, and shuffled through her various accessories- mom's old necklace, earrings from a couple boyfriends ago, old bead bracelets - but no red ring.  
  
Disappointed, I bit my cheek, stood up and pulled open her thick green curtains covering her window. I don't know what I was expecting- Madison on the sidewalk maybe, just coming home. But the street was as empty as our bank accounts on Wednesdays.   
  
I left her room the way I found it, with Nitara looking eagerly at me. "Nothing."  
  
My best friend grinned. "I told you! That's her! She's a spy, or something, I don't know-"  
  
" _Exactly_ ," I said. "We don't know. I'll ask her when she gets home. Red garnet rings... aren't that rare. Lots of people are born in January. Hell, your sun sign is Aquarius."  
  
Nitara rolled her eyes. "Don't remind me."  
  
I plopped down onto the couch, next to Nitara. "She called us heroes."  
  
My mind swept to when Nitara spotted Spider-Man on the streets, and how my interest spiked only after I saw him. Just an individual, running around Queens helping people out. He was a hero.  
Could I be a hero, too?  
  
Then I thought about other heroes. Iron Man, Captain America, Thor, Black Widow, Bruce Banner... and the wreckage they had dawned upon my city dawned upon me. Labelling them as heroes never brought my dad back.  
  
"Do you think you're one?"  
  
I waited a minute before answering, even though I knew the answer. "I think I could be."  
  
Did heroes seek revenge? Because that's what I wanted just as much as helping people. What I really wanted to be was blocked by the hatred that surrounded Vulture. I just didn't know if that hatred was because of what he did to me, or what he could do to other people. Like that woman.  
  
My mind was playing tug of war, and I didn't know what side would win. I didn't even know what side was right. Help people, or get closure? I suppose I could do both, but I knew that's not what a real hero would do. Tonight, if I were faced with the option, would I have saved the woman or killed Vulture?  
  
A cold sweat came over me and my stomach became uneasy, not from my wound. I had just considered killing a man. Not very heroic of me.   
  
Nitara kicked off her shoes and tucked her feet under her legs. "Okay, hero. You need, like, a cool name or something."  
  
I turned to Nitara. "What?"  
  
"A name," she repeated, although I wanted clarification on the "hero" part. "If we don't come up with one, the media will. And what if it sucks? 'Lightning girl strikes again!' 'The Zap saves the day!' Is that what you want? Like, how did Spider-Man get his name? Media, probably. Super unoriginal. I bet they held a gun to a writer's head and gave them five seconds to come up with a title."  
  
"I don't know," I said. "Whatever they can come up with is probably better than what I've got."  
  
Nitara snorted and pressed play on the television, as we rewatched the end of the interview. "Okay, Zap."  
  
"...There was just an initial shock, and then the girls left, I escaped... this whole night is just one big nightmare. I know-"  
  
Nitara pauses it again, her eyes lighting up.  
  
"What?" I said. "Let us watch the whole thing, huh?"  
  
Nitara looked at me like I was an idiot. "Did you not listen?"  
  
I gave her a puzzled look.  
  
"Initial shock... this whole night... nightmare," Nitara cried, fizzing with enthusiasm. "Nightmare! Isn't that good? Doesn't it, like, spike a bit of fear into your chest, but it's followed with familiarity so you know everything will turn out right? I don't know about you... but I think it clicks."  
  
I replayed the word again in my head. _Nightmare_. And again. _The Nightmare. Oh hey, it's Nightmare again. Did you see Nightmare? Nightmare killed the Vulture. He's dead... because of Nightmare._ Again and again until it didn't even sound like a word anymore. I tried to differentiate "Nightmare" from "Vulture" as to who was good or bad. My name had kind of a dark ring to it, but Nitara was right. I'm sure the media could come up with much worse.  
  
"Okay." I grinned. "Nightmare it is."  
  
Nitara jumped up from the couch. "Alright, Nightmare. First order of business, let's get you a shirt, yeah?"  
  
***  
  
Nitara was laying on the extra sleeping bag I had in my closet for occasions like this, and I was on my tiny twin bed covered in a quilt and a fresh tank top from my closet that didn't stick to the gauze on my stomach, unlike any other pyjama shirt I owned.   
  
"What time do you think Madison is coming back from work?" Nitara asked in the dead silence, and I stared at the alarm clock across my room. It was one-thirty in the morning. A bit late for me, if I'm being honest.  
  
"I don't know," I answered, my voice echoing tiredness in every letter that crossed my lips. "She's... sometimes she comes home after being out all night. There's no set hours."  
  
Nitara sighed. "I still think she's a spy."  
  
"She's not a spy."  
  
"How do you know?"  
  
"I just know."  
  
"So you don't know."  
  
"What did I _just_ say?"  
  
Nitara laughs, and her giggles chime through the room and take over where the silence once was. "You know, I... fuck."  
  
I groaned. "What?"  
  
Nitara's eyes were wide when I turned to her. "I forgot to call dad."  
  
I darted up in my bed. Nitara's dad wasn't _my_ father... but I could feel second-hand how mad he would be when he couldn't reach Nitara.  
  
Nitara scrambled through her bag for her phone. "Where is it? I can't find it, can you turn on the lights?"  
  
"It's not even dark," I said, spotting Nitara's phone in the side pocket of her bag. I climbed out of bed to get it for her, and she jumped when I put it in her hand. "Calm down!"  
  
"Sorry! I just didn't see you- how the hell can you see where you're going, anyway?"  
  
"It's light out," I said, climbing back into bed.   
  
Nitara stares at me. "It's been raining and cloudy. And your curtains are drawn."  
  
I turned to my window. The curtains were, in fact, drawn.  
  
I shrugged. "Do you need to charge your phone?"  
  
"Yes," Nitara said, exasperated.  
  
"Directly on your left there's a cord."  
  
I almost laughed watching Nitara fumble for the charger, and it took her a good ten seconds to grab it and plug her phone in. Either way, it took a minute to hear back up, but then the screen came on and the notifications started pouring in.  
  
"Oh my God," Nitara said, cupping her hand over her mouth. " _Thirty eight missed calls_."  
  
"When was the last time he called?"  
  
I could tell Nitara was reluctant to check. "...Half an hour ago. Do you think he went to bed?"  
  
"Knowing your dad... no."  
  
Nitara took a deep breath before she dialed.   
  
"Hello?" she said, barely whispering, and ducked into the main room. It didn't matter. I could still hear him loud and clear asking Nitara if she knew what time it was and how many times he had called. I flopped back onto my bed, lying down, getting the same vibes from when Madison had called me half a million times the unplanned night I spent at Nitara's.   
  
I let out another sigh. My breath was still laced with peppermint toothpaste from hours ago. It was weird- I could smell it and taste it at the same time. Hours ago, was when Madison should have been home, because her call ins usually don't take long unless they're important.   
  
A moment later Nitara entered my room again. "He said he's getting me a new portable charger. I told him I lost mine, but it's in my bag. Want it?"  
  
I yawned into my pillow. "You can put it on the dresser."  
  
Nitara tripped over something on her way to the dresser, and it took her a moment to get back in her sleeping bag. That night, Madison must have come home somewhere in the small hours of the morning, because when we woke up her door was shut and the lights in the kitchenette were left on. I was glad she got called in instead of being the one to call me. This time, I left a note on the door saying I would be at Nitara's for the next night, and that my phone wouldn't die.   
  
I would tell her that she had nothing to worry about, but I wasn't so sure myself.


	8. The Adventures of Nitara's Cell Phone, and Dropkicking 101

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana and Nitara find a way to beat Queens traffic, and are met with their first crime scene.

The next week was full of Nitara itching me to go back in public, somehow, _anyhow_ , as the newly-cemented Nightmare. I didn't want to tell her, but it was the last thing on my mind. Madison has been uneasy, ever since that night. I keep thinking- what if she knew it was me? And then I remember that would be nearly impossible, unless she _was_ that detective-person we saw. No one except Nitara has any lead that that would have been us. Well, the lady might have seen our faces, and the Vulture, but I didn't know them and they didn't know me.

The next Thursday night, Nitara had met me at the Queens Diner early- I was off at seven tonight, after starting right after school, which was odd. Usually Marty kept me later, because he and the cook were the only others on.

"Did you call Madison this time?" Nitara asked me on our way out, referring to the improv night I spent at her house.

" _Yes_. I told her two days ago, and I wrote it on the fridge. If that doesn't give her the hint, I don't know what will."

"If she's a detective, she would find out pretty easily," Nitara said.

I scowled. "She's not a detective. How many times do I have to say that?"

Nitara shrugged. "More than you already have. I still think it was her."

Nitara knew I wasn't fond of talking about that night. But Nitara being Nitara, she spoke about it anyway. I quickly turned away my white work gloves for my burgundy ones, that I had been getting good use of since I bought them. "I just can't stop thinking about it. Every time, I worry someone will find us, find out about me, and... I dunno. I don't want to wind up a lab rat."

"Don't sweat it," Nitara said, jaywalking to the wrong side of the street. I followed her, not because I agreed with jaywalking, but because I craved assurance. "We don't know who Vulture is, and he doesn't know us. And we've never even met that lady before. They're the only ones we've got to _remotely_ worry about being on our trail."

I nodded. "I guess you're r..."

My mind was on rewind of the entire night. I was perplexed that I never realised this before. "God, we're so _stupid!_ "

A lady passing by us on the sidewalk gave me a strange look, before adjusting her sunglasses and walking away. I grabbed Nitara's wrist. "Peter! We ran into him! Covered in blood! It's so obvious!"

Nitara was drained from words. "He... maybe he doesn't watch the news?"

I stared at her in disbelief in the middle of the sidewalk. "Only people who live under a _rock_ in Queens haven't heard about it by now!"

Nitara pulled me along the street. "It's not like he mentioned it in class. If he _was_ smart enough to connect us and that, we'd be the first people he'd ask. I'm sure."

I stared at Nitara. "Are you?"

"No."

"Give him credit," I said. "It doesn't take a genius to realise someone covered in blood and someone who beat up a villain are the _same person_."

What I was feeling before, about Madison, Vulture, or the woman finding out, was insignificant compared to the astronomical amount of stress pinning me down after realising we ran into Peter. "We should bring it up to _him,_ " I suggested, trying to find a way to break the chain. "He would never suspect us if we acted clueless like everybody else at school."

"We'll make up a story," Nitara said, adding on to my plan. "We'll say... you got your period, or something, and-"

"I _said_ , give the boy some credit," I told Nitara. "I'm sure he knows how periods actually work."

Nitara shrugged. "Some guys don't."

We got to Nitara's apartment (by using purely the sidewalks) in good time, and I gave her father a nod when we left the kitchen for her room. Even though Nitara was at my house when he didn't know where she was, he only blamed Nitara. Which I felt bad for, of course, but I was also thankful, because Madison's wrath was enough to handle on its own.

Nitara's bedroom was warm and welcoming as I face planted into her canvas bed. Her salt lamp was the only source of light in the room, but it emitted a warm feeling. I didn't know whether those things worked or not- but in the events of the last week, It would take an awful lot to actually surprise me ever again.

"We could go out tonight," Nitara suggested, opening her curtains to unveil the limitless city streets. "Go find some more ass to kick."

"As much as I like kicking ass," I countered, "I'm not risking being seen by anyone. Remember? Lab rat? I don't want that."

Nitara opened her dresser drawers, restlessly shuffling through her clothes. "You're not going to go out there without an outfit, idiot. But don't worry- because what are the odds that your best friend is a practising seamstress?"

With that, Nitara ripped out some dark fabric from her top drawer. "I have a bunch of these. It's breathable, so it can go over your face. And you can wrap it around and under your hair. Curls don't matter. Every hero has a mask, Diana."

I slipped off the bed and held the material in my hands. Then, without thinking how, I arranged it over my head. It was long, and pitch black- I wrapped it under my nape, then around my crown. I was still able to let some hair drift over the top. But as I could see in Nitara's giant mirror, my face- except for my eyes- was hidden.

"I look like a _burglar,_ " I complained, although my words came out seamlessly, not at all muffled by the thin mask.

"D! _Wait,_ " Nitara said suddenly, going through her drawer again. "I have these gloves. They're fingerless, and thin but they'll do the job, if you want."

Not a moment later Nitara threw two gloves at me. Hesitantly, I slid them on while taking off my burgundy ones. These were lacy and sheer, and some purple pulsed through my fingertips, just wisping out of the tips of the fabric.

"Your leggings are good," Nitara said. The leggings I was wearing right now were new, thanks to Madison's pay raise. "I hope you aren't attached to them or anything. They might get ruined out there."

I felt bad, but I pushed the feeling to the back of my mind. "Forget about the leggings. We're seriously doing this? Going out there?"

Nitara whipped out a long sleeve black top from her drawer, and tossed it at me. "You bet. Last week, I thought you were nuts for helping that woman. But you... I don't know. It came so naturally to you. Helping people."

And if we were lucky, I thought, we would run into Vulture again. This time I knew what, exactly, I would be getting into. "I guess this would be good practise."

Nitara perked up. "For what?"

I swapped shirts that I was wearing into the stretchy black one Nitara passed me- the sleeves had a long vertical stripe with laces that I struggled to tie with the gloves, but managed. "Just for.... getting used to it. What I can do. I still haven't really tried. It hurts."

Now Nitara was on the bed with me. "What do you mean, it _hurts?_ You shouldn't be doing anything if it _hurts-_ why didn't you mention it before?"

"It wasn't a big deal," I said. "And it's weird. It only, like, _aches,_ that's all, when I'm not using them. The trails. Whatever. It's like it's building up inside me and wants out."

There. I just spit out all of my vulnerability at Nitara's feet. And I didn't feel any better about myself.

"Then let it out," Nitara said, finally passing me a pair of black Nikes.

Once I slipped on the shoes, I was dressed in all black. It really wasn't that great of a look, but it would hide me where I needed to hide.

"I hope it'll do before I can whip up something better," Nitara said, throwing on a navy blue Islanders baseball cap and another navy hoodie. "Where to?"

* * *

" _Why_ are we on the roof again?"

The roof of Nitara's apartment was perfectly accessible- plus, I could see my apartment a couple blocks down. The door was never used, so no one would come up here. If we stayed away from the edge, we wouldn't be seen from below. I had shoved a brick in between the door and the frame to ensure we didn't get locked out.

"Look at all the space," I explained, twirling in a circle with my arms out. A cool wind pressed against my cheeks, and the cold night didn't phase me at all. "It's perfect up here. I want to warm up."

The clouds were splattered with pink and orange hues from the sun setting. It was just past eight- we spent a lot of time messing around in Nitara's room- and as summer left us, the sky got darker a lot quicker.

I sat crossed legged on the ground. I didn't take off the mask. It was, surprisingly, still breathable. I took off my gloves, and put them in the pocket of my pants, with the zipper done up tight. I tried to remember what I had done last week to trigger my attack.

The lady on the news said it was from my... back?

Made sense. That was where I got zapped.

I closed my eyes. Nitara mentioned something, but the wind blew her words away from my ears. My spine was bleeding violet. All I needed to do was call it back out.

I felt it happen gradually this time. I felt like an outlet in reverse. I could hear the low sparking of the trail from behind me.

And then there were more.

"This is so weird," I said, keeping my eyes closed. "I feel like a spider."

"You _look_ like an octopus," Nitara said, and I opened my eyes to find hers nearly bulging out of her head. I couldn't see behind me, but I was surrounded by two, four, six brilliant purple trails of raw energy. It was like when the Vulture has used his gun, but steady streams of several feet of it came from me. I was the gun. I was the cloud, and I had lightning going every which way.

One on my left caught my eye. I tried to move it, like I would any other limb, and it worked. Up, down, side to side- I tried to pull it back over to me and it got shorter. Then longer again. Then two at once. All three on the left, all three on the right.

Nitara was wonderstruck.

"I think you're ready," she said, staring at the trails.

I felt so backwards, but in the right place at the same time. I was hit with this. It was supposed to kill me, right? And now I was using _it_.

I would be using _it_ against Vulture.

"I want to try _using_ them," I protested. I needed a feel for every aspect here, before I jumped into the city.

Nitara shrugged. "Try the door handle."

I willed a trail to swiftly wrap around the door handle. All I had to do was open the door. Piece of cake.

I pulled back, and the trail did too- but not without slicing the door handle in half.

"Shit!" Nitara yelped. "What are those? _Blades?_ "

I walked over to the door and made sure the brick was still in place. "You would think."

Nitara was staring at the half of the silver door handle on the on the ground. "You just cut through metal. I _think_ you're ready."

"Fine," I said, walking to the edge of the roof, and making sure my mask was in place. "But it's your fault if I accidentally slice you in half."

"I-"

" _Kidding_ ," I reassured Nitara. If we went down a few levels on the fire escape, we would be able to jump to the next roof's building.

It was important to stay near the ground, so that I could jump if needed, but I wanted to have a good view of the city around us. Seeing the tops of all the buildings around me was a totally different perspective than normal. I jumped onto the highest metal grate of the fire escape and landed with a _clang_ , hopefully not alerting the people in that apartment. It was level with the next roof, which was a good seven foot jump.

I tried not to look down at the pavement six stories below.

There wasn't much room for a running start, but I figured I could put the arch of my foot against the edge of the platform for a powerful jump. If I stumbled, and _didn't_ make it, I could push against the side of the brick wall and try to grab the fire escape rails on my way down. If _that_ didn't work, I could-

" _Whoo!_ " Nitara yelped, darting past me and landing clean on the next roof with a roll. I stared at her blankly, trying to comprehend that she didn't even stop to think about jumping.

Shaking my head, I took off after her. I obviously needed to take notes.

I was in the air for what felt like a whole minute, but was only seconds as I flew across the alley and landed abruptly on my feet and one hand, a good twelve inches from the edge of the roof. That did it. One building down, a bunch more to go.

Nitara scrambled onto her feet, looking slightly dazed but full of adrenaline. For a moment, I forgot we were in the city, and all I could see were the empty tops of roofs ahead of me and their surfaces being illuminated by the setting sun. This time, with confidence, I took off running to hop to the next roof. I could feel Nitara on my heels and knew I didn't have to look behind me to know she was there. Up here, it was windier, and my hair blew wildly in the unrestrained gale.

Nothing was real. The only sound battling the whips of the wind in my ears was the solid slapping of the loose soles of my shoes on the concrete roofs. My knees absorbed every shock of impact that jolted through my feet, and I didn't stop until nearly jumping off a building at the end of the street before realising I had reached the end of the line.

I skidded to a hasty stop, and flung my arms out beside me, in case Nitara kept running- but I heard her slow her pace when she saw me stop. The next rooftop was across the intersection, and on the next block, the stories of each building fluctuated with each.

"Well," Nitara said, her voice trembling after running half a block in the sky. "This was anticlimactic."

I scanned the road in front of me. Boldness sprouted from somewhere inside me the moment I jumped the first roof, and it only festered more when I stopped. My blood was pumping more than I was moving, and I had to run, I had to take off.

My eyes landed on a wrought iron pole on the building that would continue my adventure. It looked weak, like it was meant to hold flowers at one point but was evidently abandoned. Its location wasn't the best, considering the Sun didn't shine over it, with the exception of noon hour when its rays were all over the city. Then again, thanks to the tall buildings, it was hard to start a garden anywhere here in Queens.

The mask covering my face except for my eyes made me feel less like a criminal and more like a hero as my feet took off from the building. My hair flew around me, being whipped around in the wind, and I could hardly register the worried call of Nitara as I left the rooftop and soared over the intersection. Gravity wasn't on my side, and I could feel myself falling , but I extended a trail in midair to wrap around the wrought iron and hoped this wouldn't be a repeat of last time where it sliced clean through.

I tried to focus on that _not_ happening again as I kept my form, reaching in the direction of the trail. I heard a car beneath me skid to a stop, but I didn't take my gaze from my target. The crackling violet wisp obeyed me like a lasso as it knotted around the iron, allowing me to swing from it like a tree branch. It propelled me enough to swing above the building's roof, and I veered myself to the right, landing on the new roof with a hard _thump_.

After regaining my footing, I turned and saw Nitara still stranded on the former building, waving her arms at me like I was a maniac. Maybe I was crazy to try using my trails as a lasso in a risky situation, but it had worked, hadn't it?

I saluted to Nitara, because I doubted she could hear me if I yelled across the intersection, but it was only a second before I felt my phone ringing in my pocket. Kind of exasperated, I took it out and answered Nitara's call.

"Are you _insane?_ "

"No," I replied. "Just crazy."

"What if you fell into the street? That car down there would've _recorded your death_. Your only legacy would be a bloodstain on the pavement. We didn't even know if your electric rope things would work or not."

" _Trails_ ," I corrected.

"I don't care!" Nitara was waving her hands across the road to the sound of her petrified voice. "You could've died!"

"I _didn't,_ though. Trust me. It just felt safe, so I did it. Whatever the hell these trails are, I trust them."

"With your life? Remember where they came from, Diana. From a murderous metal bird. You're _trusting_ the creation of Vulture."

I shrugged, knowing Nitara could see even small actions from her rooftop. "I don't think he made this. The gun, sure, but... I don't know. This just feels so foreign, it couldn't have been done by him. It's not..." _human_. "I don't know."

Nitara huffed. "Whatever it is, it's dangerous. You need to be more careful."

"Says the girl who just flew across a block of rooftops with me." I bit my cheek. Nitara wasn't going to like what I had to say next. "I'm going to keep going."

"Wait," she pleaded. "I'll come over there. Or... or follow you on the street or something. You can play Tarzan or whatever across the intersections, and I'll _run_ or something."

"Just meet me somewhere." I scanned the roads below me, going on for blocks. "I'm going over to Metropolian Avenue. It'll be smooth sailing across the rooftops from there. All the buildings are squished together. I'll go past the school, then come back in a circle around the diner. Sound good?"

Nitara sputtered on her end of the line. "No! How am I going to follow you?"

"I'll be at the school in twenty minutes, tops. You can take a cab or something. I don't know." _Figure it out_. "I'll see you then."

Without waiting for a response or wondering how Nitara was going to get off the roof, because the last building's fire escape was at least two stories from the roof, I hung up the phone so I could slide it somewhere safe while I jumped. It wasn't as easy as the movies made it, but every time I used a trail, it gave me an astronomical boost.

Getting tired of running and jumping didn't even occur to me, because whenever I _did_ use a trail, it was like my energy bar was reset. I ended up reaching the school in fifteen minutes, not twenty, a pretty good feat considering I had to keep coming up with creative ways to jump intersections with my trails. Traffic lights, for one, were my new best friend.  
  
Nitara would most likely show up out back, since the back gate was on the road she'd be coming down and the school never locked it like they were supposed to. The sky was growing an increasingly dark shade of indigo, which had me feeling even more out of place. I was standing on the roof of my school, unrecognisable, and it was almost nightfall.

I sighed, pacing across the roof, regretting my decision already. As if I didn't spend enough time here already. Additionally, there were definitely a bunch of cars that weren't pleased at me swooping across intersections in front of them. Maybe it was okay when someone like Spider-Man did it, but who was I compared to him? A disturbance to most.

I watched the last of the sun dip below the edge of Manhattan as a fence rattling stunned me like maracas to my ears. I spun around and looked at the back gate of the field, expecting Nitara to angrily slip in and give me a piece of her mind from the ground, but instead witnessed a boy about my age get absolutely _pummeled_ into the metal by three others towering over him.

I didn't recognise the boy, but he could have been a freshman. Or, in someone like Harry's case, a transfer. Maybe even an exchange student. I glanced over at him again. It didn't matter- he was getting the living shit beat out of him.

In a moment of stupidity, I looked around for help and slapped my hand against my waist, grasping the shape of my phone to call for help before stopping. I looked over at the fight escalating at the gate. It was three against one, it seemed morally unjustified, and here I was, a proposed hero, watching it all go down from afar.

If there was anything I learned from my father dying in the Battle of New York, it was that ignorant heroes were just as big as a threat as the enemy. I was here to do better. To think of the little guy.  
  
I activated my trails, which felt like breaking through a dam, and made a running leap off the building and towards the line of trees on the edge of school property. I could not miss. Right when I was flying at top speed through the air, I lassoed a trail to the biggest branch and swung.

It was like the wrought iron basket, but as soon as I propelled myself back through the air, I had to do it again and swing from the next tree. The second landing wasn't as synchronized, but I still let go at the perfect time to be sent foot first into the back of the tallest aggressor's head. I bounced back and flipped as he was sent into the grass, and although ungracefully, I managed to land with as much balance and pose as a stork. The aggressors looked bewildered, and appeared not to have seen me come from nowhere.

The boy, a blonde who did look familiar now that I was closer, scrambled from the ground and behind me. His hair was ruffled, his nose was bleeding, but other than that, he looked fine.

The three guys _definitely_ didn’t go to Midtown. They were all well above six feet, and had beards. Like, _beards._ I almost wanted to back away when I remembered that I had the upper hand. The two I hadn’t gotten the chance to beat up were looming over me, intimidating and all, but the third that I dropkicked was curled on the ground in a ball clenching his head in his hands. Not so intimidating.

“Gentlemen,” I addressed, hardly out of breath. “This hardly seems like a fair fight.”

The tallest one cracked his knuckles. “Move it, bitch. This ain’t your fight.”

I arched an eyebrow, which was one of my only features that showed through the mask. “Is it not? Because two against two seems a lot better to me.”

“Don’t make us hit a girl,” the second one said, looking down upon me as he moved closer. I wasn’t going to lie- the way he towered over be brought the intimidation levels to a spike, but I held my ground.

“Don’t worry,” I breathed, but he was so close I knew he could hear my hollow voice, even through my mask. “I won’t.”

At that moment, I took the opportunity to activate my trails once again, and they only took a split second to zap to life and spread behind me like wings. I counted the presence of six- the low hum they made brought me to life, and when I brought them out it felt like I had triggered an outlet of power that was boiling inside of me with nowhere to go. This time, with grace, I wrapped two trails around the man, once, then twice.

It was different than the door on Nitara’s roof. I didn’t slice through the guy. Instead, I harnessed the wild rushing energy that travelled through the stems, that were already sparking purple in their electric grasp, and I sent the energy through them like a circuit. 

I didn’t know how, but this was different from when Vulture had shot the man and I with his gun. _I_ controlled the energy output, not a trigger, and the man’s face only briefly twisted between fear and pain (what I guessed wasn’t even the _half_ of what I had felt in the alley) before his eyes drifted shut and he fell unconscious to the grass as I released the trails.

At this point, his friend was terrified and backing away. “Mark?” He turned his attention to me. “You _psycho bitch!_ Look what you- Mark! He’s dead, isn’t he?”

Mark’s friend didn’t break eye contact with me while he broke out his phone. “You fucking alien,” he shouted. “Stay back, or I’ll call the cops, and-”

I snorted. “And what? Confess to beating the shit out of some kid? I’ll have you know, _Mark_ here isn’t dead,” I sneered. “And I’m not from another _planet_. I’m just here to stop freaks like you.”

And with that, I sent another surge of electricity through a couple trails, and shocked Mark’s buddy. The remaining attacker was on the ground, still in a ball… _crying_. I nearly laughed. I hadn’t kicked him _too_ hard.

_ Now _ I pulled out my phone, and speed-dialled Nitara, who picked up in a nanosecond.

“You’re nuts,” she said, her voice shaking like she was running. “You’re _crazy_. I love you. You _annihilated_ that guy. Can I hire you as a bodyguard?”

My brow furrowed. How did Nitara know what happened? “Where are-”

I heard feet thumping on the grass, and I turned to look behind the blond kid to see Nitara running this way halfway across the field a couple hundred metres away. She had sweat glistening on her cheeks, and I almost felt bad knowing she had most likely been running for the past twenty minutes. I had never even seen Nitara run to school when we were late, but here she was, giving it her all.

When she reached us, she was out of breath, and the kid looked at her even weirder than he had been looking at me, if that was even possible. After taking a minute with her hands on her knees, Nitara looked up at me through her dark sunglasses and gasped, “Cops?”

“Be my guest.”

Nitara, still holding her phone, dialled the police and stood a bit to the side. “Hi,” she said, in shallow breaths. “I… I’m at Midtown High, and there was just a- a bad thing, I don’t really know- there were these three guys beating up someone. No, he’s okay, but I don’t know about the other guys. Did _I_ intervene?... hell no. It was Nightmare. I saw it all.”

A pause came from Nitara. I could hear the man on the other end asking who Nightmare was.

“The girl on the news,” she wheezed, kneeling over for what I assumed was a mad cramp. “How do I know her name? Uh, I… got here in time to ask?”

I turned to the kid while Nitara ranted to emergency services. “Are you okay? What was this all about?”

The blond spoke- he had a light, sunny voice. “I-I think they mentioned something about my mom,” he said, his voice trembling still as he tried stemming the blood flow of his nose with his shirt. “My mom is a manager at OSCORP. She just laid a bunch of people off, and I think- they were talking about the one guy’s brother. I don’t know them, I just…”

I could begin to hear sirens wail, and that told me it was time to go. “The cops are coming,” I told him, glancing at the road over my shoulder. “I’m high tailing it out of here. And if anyone asks, my name-”

A cop car swirled around the corner and stopped outside the fence gate, and at the same time a man and woman hopped out and started to jog over.

“-is Nightmare,” I finished. “Good luck, kid.” I started to grab Nitara’s wrist as she hastily cut the man off and hung up the phone.

I had already fastened a tight grip around Nitara with a trail when I heard the kid yell, “We’re practically the same age!”

“No we’re not!” I shouted, and leapt off the ground without looking back. I left the field the way I came, by flying into the trees, and ignored the authorities yelling as I took Nitara, who was screaming, back onto the roof of Midtown High and across the street “Hang on!”

Nitara screamed.

I jumped across an intersection, with Nitara gripping my waist as a lifeline even though I had her perfectly content with my singular trail I had out, and soon shot out another to make it to the roof of the next building. We roof-hopped the way we came, and Nitara’s voice was pretty worn out by the time we reached her apartment again.

“Shit,” was all she could say. “Shit. Shit.”

“Well,” I commented, ignoring her and heading for the brick in the window. “That was productive.”

“No,” Nitara said. “I mean, _shit_. I used my cell phone to call the cops. They’re probably tracing me this very minute. Do you think VPN’s block caller identification? Because Dad installed one, but I have no idea how they work, and what if the cops come, what am I going to say to Dad-”

“Hey,” I said, putting my arm around Nitara. “No. You’ll be fine. The last thing the cops have time for is figuring out how to trace your call. If they really want to find me, they’ll be able to try the next time I see them.”

“I’m getting a new phone next month,” Nitara said. “I could-throw this in a lake or something.”

I frowned. “That’s litter.”

“ _Fuck_ , Diana, I don’t know! I’m freaking out! What if they interrogate me to find out who you are? I’m pretty sure that, without credibility, being a superhero is _illegal_. Ever heard of the Sokovia Accords? Yeah, you’d be _fucked_.”

“Okay,” I said, trying to think. “Well, what if you turned on airplane mode? Or like, cleared your data or something?”

Nitara only took a second to press the home button. “There. Done.”

I stared at her. Nitara stared back.

Then, she chucked her cell phone onto the cement roof of the complex, and her phone shattered into a zillion little pieces. “Dude!”

Nitara took a deep breath. “I’m okay.”

Then, she walked through the apartment door, kicking the brick out of the way and holding it open long enough for me to follow behind. Once we were down the hall and it slammed shut behind us, I said, “are you?”

Nitara nodded. “I think I’ll survive without a phone. I might buy a burner to make calls with later this week.” She studied me, head to toe. “You mind if I do my streaks on your phone for a while?”

I groaned. “Fine. That’s so stupid.”

Nitara huffed. “Okay, enjoy making your _own_ nine-one-one calls. Do you even know how stressed out it is, talking to those guys-”

I elbowed Nitara. “You don’t mind. You’re my sidekick. Hey, that reminds me. We need to think _you_ up a name. How about, Islander Fan number one? Or the twenty-minute-runner? Or the twenty-minute-shouter? Or-”

Nitara rubbed her fist in my hair, making the mask all but fall off my face as I nearly fell down from laughing so hard. “I should probably call Madison,” I said after calming down. “Duty calls. She’ll have an aneurism if I don’t let her know I didn’t die while staying at your house.”

Nitara grinned as she fumbled with her keys as we reached the door to her apartment, once again. “If only she knew.”


	9. Busy Boys, and Rich Boys

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana spends some quality time with Peter (if you could call it that), and takes a page from Nitara's book.

**Busy Boys, and Rich Boys**

The next week of school didn’t go as smoothly as I’d hoped.

It _started_ at nine in the morning on Monday, when I got my Spanish quiz back: a fresh forty-two percent. And seeing as it’s the only piece of marked material so far this year, my course average reflects it.

“It’s not so bad,” Nitara said, neatly folding her eighty-eight percent into the flap of her binder. “Verbs were never your strong point. Next unit is past tense. You’ll get ‘em then.”

First of all, that was wrong. I sucked even worse at past tense than I did at verbs. Second of all, it hurts a little more when the teacher hands out quizzes to random classmates to mark, and then a smart kid hands you your failed project. They say time heals wounds, but I kept on reopening mine.

Next, I had gotten logged out of half of my social media accounts after Nitara had borrowed my phone. Which I wouldn’t have minded, except for the fact that my recovery email wasn’t actually _my_ email- it was my eldest sister’s, from when I made accounts when she still lived with Madison and I. Now, Anne and her fiancée were renovating their house, so I had to await an email from _her_ about the mysterious influx of change-my-password emails she had received, since her landline was out, and she lived a twenty minute hike from anywhere you could even imagine to get cell signal.

None of that wouldn’t have mattered if I didn’t _need_ my social media to get in contact with Peter in the least awkward way possible. He wasn’t at school all week long, so I had to sit through yearbook with Harry the Floater, who kept choosing photography. I try to be nice, but this kid knows _nothing_ about photography.

Sometimes I wondered how Peter excelled at school when he only showed up half the time. All week, Ned Leeds wandered the halls with his eyes glazed over. Harry didn’t seem to be as interested in the poor guy the way he was with Peter. I tried to reassure myself in the fact that Peter’s excuse of absence wasn’t related to Nightmare, but the thought churned relentlessly in the back of my mind. What would he need to go on a week-long retreat for? Did he know Vulture? Was he in touch with the press? Or worse, Madison? Or, even _worse_ \- I was pretty sure he was still an intern at Stark Industries. There were so many loose ends I was dealing with here, it was enough to make my head explode.

I was _not_ one for dealing with repercussions.

So, when Peter finally arrived at school the following Monday, I cornered him as we left Chemistry, after a very awkward run-down of the lab assignment we had started the previous week.

“I already did the first page,” I told him, trying not to sound too accusing. “So if you had time outside of class, I could go over what I’ve done with you and we can both go from there.”

Peter stumbled over his words. “You know, I could just figure it out on my own. Not that I don’t want to work with you, or anything, I just… am _really busy_ outside of school.”

“So am I,” I stated. “I have a job and…” _Nightmare stuff_. “I’m pretty sure we can find a sliver of time in our schedules to go over it.”

“I’m _really_ sorry,” Peter blushed. “But I can’t. I’ll figure it out by myself, and then I can do the rest, if you want.”

I narrowed my eyes at him quizzically as we walked down the crowded hallway. “So, you have time to figure it out by yourself instead of me explaining what you missed? Peter, if you don’t want to hang out, just _say_ so-”

Those words hurt to say, maybe more for me than for him, because this was the exact reason I _didn’t_ have more friends, like Madison wanted. Normally, Nitara and I would just get brushed off by other people. We weren’t weird kids, we weren’t losers, but we also weren’t all that popular. As in, probably no one knew our names outside of our classes. Or for that matter, _in_ our classes. And whenever I tried to branch out, I’d be met with hostility. I wasn’t going to lie- I was pretty sick of it by now.

“I _do_ ,” Peter said with wider eyes than before. “I do. Like I said, I’m just really busy. What if we talked in yearbook? Like, after school the robotics club is having a competition, and there’s a Decathlon run-through on Thursday. We could go to those for pictures.”

“What the heck is Decathlon?”

Peter craned his head at me. “You really don’t know? It’s been going on for years, they already have posters up for Washington- it’s basically, uh, trivia. In a simple way to say it.”

I grinned as I got to my locker. “Sounds like yearbook material.” Silence. “I, uh… don’t really pay attention to all the clubs going on. Only the ones I took pictures of last year.”

“That’s okay. I’ll bring you along Thursday. The only problem is that I have to be _in_ it, so you’ll be the only one taking pictures.”

I snorted. “You’re forgetting your friend Harry.”

“He’s a lot more interested in tech,” Peter explained. “I think he’s only in photography because I am, and you are, and you’re friends with Nitara, and _he’s_ friends with Nitara…”

I bounced a nod. “Got it. So he won’t be sticking around for much longer.”

“He’ll get bored,” Peter said, looking down the hall. “Speak of the devil…”

At the top of the stairs emerged Harry, shooting Peter a sly smile. He spoke once he got through the tsunami of students going for Lunch. “You two ready for the basement?”

I smiled as I was currently situated between two guys I was only acquainted with, max. “…Yup.”

Harry held out his hand. “Lead the way, D.”

I took the lead in front of Harry and Peter, the latter of whom could probably find his way to the basement with his eyes closed. If one thing was obvious, it was that Peter was wrong- Harry seemed pretty comfortable with photography.

* * *

I wish I could say Harry made the basement sound worse than it was, but it really wasn’t. Last week, a pipe burst, so the washrooms were currently unavailable, and the yearbook room smelled like wet socks. I tried to think of what I wouldn’t do to get a damn window in that room.

The meeting was brief, and afterwards, Harry was warded off when I gave him the prospect of meeting Nitara before she left the Home Ec classroom.

“You’re going to make him run up three flights of stairs,” Peter mused, watching his friend dash off in competition with the bell.

I grinned. “Nitara waits for no one. Plus, two flights. The basement stairs are just split in half.”

“Diabolical.”

The basement stairs were soon empty as an influx of drama club students raced up the stairs, almost as fast as Harry.

I turned to Peter, and leaned against the wall to show him I wasn’t leaving the room to talk about this. “There’s something I wanted to talk to you about.”

Peter leaned across from me, against the stair railing. “About what?”

I took a deep breath. “Do you remember when I ran into you? At the end of the week before last? I know it was a while ago, I just didn’t see you since then, and wanted to-”

Peter sucked in a breath of air. “I had nothing to do with it,” he rushed.

I paused, and my face froze in confusion. “What?”

Peter went stark, and spoke in unambiguous certainty. “I just mean the Vulture thing. I saw it on the news when I got home, though. It sounded pretty wild.”

My mind went blank. Instead of going into self-defense mode, Peter did it for me. “I mean, same here. I was just… curious. I thought… wait _,_ what _were_ you doing that night?”

“Me? What about _you?_ You were covered in blood, Diana.”

Fuck. This backfired.

“I…” What do I say? What do I say? Why did Peter have to corner me like this? “I got… my… period.”

Peter stared at me.

“Your… _period_.”

I nodded. “Yep. Menstruation. _Sucks_.” I puckered my lips. “What were you doing?”

“Picking up flour for my aunt at the Deli,” Peter explained. “She was in the middle of baking. Cookies.”

“Oh.” This time I blushed. “You live with your aunt?”

Peter began walking up the stairs, and I followed him, glad to be talking about a normal subject. “Yeah. I’ve been living with her for a while now.”

“Cool.” We walked. “I live with my sister.”

This was _definitely_ why I had no friends. But what I lacked in social skills, I made up for in purple electricity.

Peter nodded. I nodded.

“How come?”

“My parents are dead,” I deadpanned. Really, it was a classic line, at this point.

Peter’s face went white. “Oh. Sh… I’m sorry-”

“It’s fine,” I quipped, mostly for my own sake. “We do fine. We kept our apartment on Ascan. My sister works, and I work, and we… manage.”

That was one way of putting it. I didn’t put much strength into the word _manage_.

“You live on Ascan? I’m on Winter Street,” Peter said. “That’s cool. We’re not even two blocks away.”

I perked up. “Winter Street? Have you ever run into Nitara?”

Peter laughed. “Are you kidding? We live in the same building.”

“I never see you!”

Peter laughed. “Well, I- augh, I’m hardly ever home.”

I nodded, _again_. “I see. Well, I’ll see you later though, right? Yearbook? Robotics?”

We were walking past the gym, and Peter was making his stop. “Yeah. For sure. That’ll be good. And- what if, I mean… why don’t you try out for Decathlon?”

I stopped. “Decathlon?”

Peter tugged at his backpack straps. “Yeah. Like, if you don’t want to, that’s fine, but they’re short a member. Or, they will be. You should talk to Mr. Harrington. He runs it. He’ll be there when you take pictures Thursday.”

“Maybe I will,” I hummed, thinking about how I was going to fit this in with Yearbook and the Queens Diner, atop of Nightmare and hunting the Vulture. And studying. “Are you guys expanding? Did someone leave?”

Peter looked down to his feet. “Actually, I’m leaving. I can’t balance it with my internship. Thursday is going to be my last day, so…”

“That sucks,” I mumbled. “I guess you’re really dedicated to your internship. I’ll think about it, but it sounds like fun. Or… I might tell Nitara about it? We both like that kind of stuff.”

Peter smiled, probably just glad that his spot would get filled. “Alright. Cool. I’ll meet you after school.”

I opened my mouth to answer him, but the bell rang right as I did. “Oh… shit. Catch you later.”

Before Peter could say anything else, I pivoted, and booked it down the hall as fast as I could go without running. Nitara. Where was Nitara?

* * *

“I can’t believe you,” I muttered to Nitara.

My best friend sipped her smoothie in guilty response, her sleek black hair gleaming in the Deli Grocery’s window as the sun began to dip over the horizon that evening.

Nitara finished sipping for what had to have been half a minute procrastinating. “Look. I had the chance and I took it. _You_ got to hang out with Peter today. _I_ got to hang out with Harry.”

“ _I_ went to Robotics Club with Peter after school to take pictures for _Yearbook_ ,” I corrected, leaving my smoothie untouched. “It’s not like that with us. Trust me. I don’t think the guy even wants to be around me. Besides, you _skipped school._ Your Dad is going to paint the walls with you when you get home.”

Nitara rolled her eyes. “Relax. Harry called the school and pretended to be Dad. The Secretary hardly knows that Harry exists. Plus, he did a killer accent. It would have fooled me.”

I took a small sip of my smoothie. “I find that hard to believe.”

Nitara finished the remains of her smoothie, which was mostly just bubbles. “What did you want to talk about, then?”

I was back on track immediately. “ _Peter_.” I looked around our table, the only one in the shop, to make sure no one else happened to be within earshot of what I was about to say. “I tried to cover up for the Vulture thing, but he started getting really defensive before I could even say anything. You should have been there. He was acting so weird.”

Nitara had put her priorities about Harry aside. “What did he say? Was _he_ covering something up?”

I threw my hands in the air around me. “God, _I_ haven’t got a clue. But he just tried to turn the whole thing on me. Can you believe that? I had to pull the period card. Thanks for that, by the way.”

Nitara beamed and laughter chimed in her voice. “You _did?_ Did it work?”

I leaned back in my chair, tipping on the edges, and picked at a loose thread on my glove. “Surprisingly, I think he did. If he had a suspicion, he definitely didn’t question it.”

“Classic.” Nitara eyed my smoothie. “Are you gonna drink that?”

I sighed and pushed over my near full smoothie. “Be my guest.”

Nitara started drinking my smoothie almost as fast as the last, and I figured as long as she was doing that, I would have the chance to talk without interruptions. “He said that he was in such a hurry, because he came here to buy flour for his aunt.”

Nitara stopped breathing. “May,” she offered, then went back to her smoothie. “Continue.”

“Yeah, sure. Anyway, he was leaving in the direction _of his apartment_ , away from the Deli. Meaning he was going home. He also had no flour with him. And you know the Deli _never_ runs out of flour.”

Nitara slowly blinked at me. “So what you’re saying is… Peter’s lying to you.”

I shrugged. “I guess. I just feel like there’s more to it, you know?”

“You don’t think he’s _with_ him, do you?”

“With who?”

“ _Vulture_ ,” Nitara hissed, in her lowest voice which, granted, wasn’t very low, but was hushed even though no one was around. “He shouldn’t be lying to you about something so miniscule, unless he’s somehow involved, right?”

I sat on Nitara’s theory. “You’re… not wrong.”

Nitara finished my smoothie. “When am I ever?”

A lightbulb went off in my head. “That reminds me! They’re doing tryouts for the Decathlon team. I thought I’d tell you, because Peter told me about the spot, yet I figured it was kind of more your thing, with random useless facts that never come in handy the rest of the time-”

Nitara put up a hand. “Seriously? Also, yeah, they do come in handy. Like when we went trick-or-treating in eighth grade and that woman asked us a riddle. I’ll do it. Just tell me when and where.”

“Thursday after school in the gymnasium,” I provided. “You know, lucky you. You’re taking Peter’s place, but that’ll just be one more thing to talk about to Harry with. I’ll be there with Peter, taking pictures.”

Nitara thought quickly about my words. “Yeah, I guess that makes sense. We’re all in woodshop, plus you’re in Yearbook with the two of them.”

Another moment passed. “So how was Harry?”

The straw fell out of Nitara’s mouth as she sucked in dry air. “Wh-what?”

I narrowed my eyes. “I said… how was Harry? What did you guys do?”

Nitara blushed, which was an infrequent action for her. “Nothing. I mean, we talked for a long time. We went on a drive to Manhattan. _Manhattan_ , D. He had a _chauffeur_. Like, I had no idea, but the guy’s rich. His dad owns OSCORP.”

A shiver went up my spine. “Wait… really? Don’t you think-”

“He asked me to hang out with him after school tomorrow,” Nitara said. “I said yes. He said he can take me to his dad’s work and climb the tower. He has a pass to the top. Did you know it’s almost as tall as Avengers Tower? You can see it from the top, he said. I’m going to show him my apartment from up there. Or, the general direction, anyway.”

“Cool,” I answered hollowly, Nitara’s veneration about Harry going through one ear and out the other. “I work tomorrow, anyway, but not the late shift. Are you going to be back in time to go out? Or-”

“We were going to watch the sunset,” Nitara mused, her eyes glazed over as her eyes floated through space, past my shoulder and staring somewhere out the window.

I picked up the two smoothie cups to bring back to the counter and pet Murph before I left. “Be careful,” I said, somewhat wearily, thinking of all the rich guys that have ever owned towers. “You know, wealthy dudes. Make sure you keep a close eye on him.”


	10. A Blessing, and a Curse

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nightmare faces the barrel of a gun again (a regular one, this time) and lack of communication catches up with her.

That Friday, on the twenty-third, I was left for the third time in a row to go do some Nightmare business without Nitara.

At first, it was weird. I initially struggled when I was putting my mask on around my hair, and then when deciding what shoes to wear with it. As it turned out, I had no black ones, not even sandals, so I had to break into Madison’s shoe closet. I got my hands on a pair of black Nikes, which looked like they were worth more than me, and couldn’t help but wonder where she’d come across them. I’d never seen her in them.

Maybe they were Mom’s.

Shamelessly, I slipped them on. It was better if they got some wear and tear, just not so much to be noticeable. I’d keep the damage to a minimum.

While it was still light out, I kept it to walks down side streets and alleyways that were never busy, if possible. Getting noticed could mean someone ringing the cops on me. So, as much as I hated alleyways, I tried to remember that _I_ was the one with the power. I could defend myself just fine, and help others just as much. Like that blond kid at Midtown. I wondered how the thugs that cornered him were enjoying the police station.

For a dingy street in Queens at dusk, there wasn’t much going on. I hadn’t even heard sirens by the time the sun dipped below the horizon, which was my cue to swing up onto the nearest fire escape and take it to the rooftops.

I only used one trail to jump up, but it was enough to light up the whole alley. I landed with a clang, so if the residents of this building didn’t already see me, they definitely heard me. I wasted no time in running up the escape until I got to the top, where there was nothing but vociferous wind, baked cement, and the faintest echo of a sunset.

I took my time jumping over the rooftops until I got to the corner the Deli was on. The lights in the front of the store were off, but I could see Murph lounging on the window counter. The streetlights flicked on, one row at a time down the street, and they rippled against the cat’s fur through the glass.

Murph was watching the cars go by. There weren’t many, and they all came by in bunches, no uniformly. Maybe the traffic lights were out of synch, but either way, traffic was once again dying down.

So much so, that I figured it would be safe to cross through the air at the intersection without being a distraction to drivers.

I spent most of my time on the business streets. I passed the Queens Diner a couple times, and could see Marty at the cash through the windowpanes as I stood on the edge of a roof. It didn’t look busy.

I couldn’t shake Nitara’s words earlier of Peter from my head.

I mean, Peter was being odd at school, but that didn’t mean that he worked with Vulture. We were _sophomores_ , for the love of all things, and I didn’t think that the Vulture, a weapon-loaded crime lord, had the time nor energy to fraternize with fifteen-year olds.

Fifteen-year olds that were on his side, anyway.

I sighed through my mask. Vulture _had_ to have some people on his side. One man couldn’t have been working in a warehouse all by himself. Maybe it would be easier to track them down as a start.

What was Vulture doing with weapons like that, anyway? Plotting world domination? Unlikely. It was definitely an interior business. Mafia? It sounded stupid, but it could be something like that. Or a gang showing off to other gangs. I was running out of options.

How would I even begin to track down his crew, anyway?

My thoughts were disintegrated by a shattering of glass, followed by a sharp alarm. My head spiked up, and as I swam away from my thoughts on Vulture, I looked below the side of the roof to the other side of the street where a shop had its glass door shattered. Just as I spotted the source of the alarm, the screeching of it stopped abruptly. It was the same store I had bought my gloves at, and through the window, I could see two figures moving around inside. They must have already turned the alarm off.

I hadn’t even sprung from my position on the roof when down the street, a sharp red figure zoomed into my peripheral vision and, lacking grace, aimed to land on the store’s awning but soared over top of it and landed on the deserted sidewalk. In the streetlights, their white eyes narrowed, and I heard him hiss in pain and frustration, before leaping back onto his feet and stepping through the door’s opening.

The shadows of the thieves stilled as I heard Spider-Man say, “Ladies! What’s up?”

He didn’t wait for a response as he swung into action (not literally), and shot two thin, white webs at the first woman, effectively sticking her gloved hands to the wall. The second grabbed a clothing rack stationed on the floor of the shop and threw it at Spider-Man, who effectively ducked before it even completely left her hands. It clattered to the tiles on the floor, and Spider-Man took a defensive stance as the woman picked up a mannequin from the window.

The woman on the wall managed to get a hand free from the web without Spider-Man noticing, so I decided I wanted in on the action.

“How come you guys are robbing a store like this? Huh?” Spider-Man dodged every item the second woman was throwing his way with ease, a shoe here, decoration there, although it kept him distracted to the majority of what was going on behind him-namely, the woman who was currently escaping his webs. “You’re already wearing, like, three layers of clothes-”

After that final comment, the woman reached for the last item that seemed to be near her- a hangar pole. I could only see through the window frame what was going on, but as I made use of my trails to get me down the side of the building, I managed to see more the closer I got to the ground.

I stopped a few floors from the sidewalk. If I crossed the street, and landed on the awning, the thieves wouldn’t be able to see me, and I could use the element of surprise if needed. Hoping that my aim was better than that of Spider-Man’s, I shot a trail to a balcony pole a couple floors above the awning, and jumped across the street, with as much help from my trails as I could use, retracting them so that I made the jump.

The awning squeaked when I landed on it, but it was a sound that could easily be dismissed.

It was a good thing I had moved- not two seconds later did the glass window shatter to pieces, with Spider-Man barreling through the air and landing on the crease of the sidewalk and the empty road with a whispered cry.

I went from a kneeling position to a crouch, readying myself if need be. Before Spider-Man could even get back up, both women appeared below the awning. The one against the wall must have freed her hand from the web keeping it to the wall- with or without the help of her accomplice. Now that I wasn’t looking through opaque glass, I got a better look at them- both were blondes, above average height. Spider-Man was right- they were wearing outrageously large coats, and I guessed several layers beneath. I couldn’t see their entire faces from the superfluous sunglasses both of them wore to conceal their identity- it obviously wasn’t for the sun. It was far past sunset by now.

Before I could identify anything else, I was startled as both women reached into their coats and pulled out two guns. Each. I gulped, and it felt like I had an anvil in my stomach. Spider-Man slowly regained his footing, but was immediately distracted by the four guns that were all aiming at his head.

I knew he had webshooters, and I knew he had speed on his side. But he wasn’t as fast as a bullet, and he only had two hands.

I could only see the back of their heads, but I could tell that the first woman was smiling as she said, “Any last words, Spider-Man?”

I waved my gloved hand frantically back and forth through the air, trying to get his attention as he deducted his chances of escape, of which there were few to none of. Even though I was a dark figure in the night, I hoped the streetlamps were illuminating enough to make me noticeable.

Spider-Man looked between the first woman, and the second probably too preoccupied thinking of his final words than to notice my frenzied gesture. Words to warn him were at the tip of my tongue, but I stumbled on my actions when I thought of the outcome. One, I distract Spider-Man and he gets shot; two, I distract the thieves and he gets away; or three, I distract all of them and _I_ get shot.

No matter how hard I waved my hand back and forth, Spider-Man was oblivious and only paying attention to the four guns pointing at him, probably trying to figure a way out of this one.

I almost smirked to myself before I saved his ass. Superheroes _weren’t_ invincible.

I slipped my black glove off of my hand in one quick motion, and flexed my hand. Purple wisps of energy crackled off the scarred palm of my skin, and before I could form any regrets into what I was doing, I waved my fluorescent hand through the night sky like a torch. Spider-Man hardly flinched, and if I didn’t see his white eyes shift ever so slightly, I’d have thought he missed me. But out of the corner of his eye, he watched.

I heard the sound of a couple guns clicking loose. Deep breath. They couldn’t see me. A real hero was someone who was smart enough to get out of this. If I couldn’t do this, I probably didn’t deserve to be squatting on the awning in the first place. With a violently glowing hand, I pointed sharply at myself, then dragged my pointed finger down to the woman on the left. Then, I pointed at Spider-Man, and drew his gaze to the woman on my right. He remained still; unfaltering.

If he didn’t understand…

He _had_ to understand.

I made a three with my fingers as the other guns clicked. A two. A one.

Then I jumped into action.

I sprang from the awning like a trampoline, arms out in front of me as a couple trails shot out of my back nearly faster than her bullet could have rang through the air. At the same time, I heard Spider-Man’s webshooters spew in the direction of the woman on my right- but that wasn’t important right now. He was fine- I had to worry about this one.

With my hands clasping onto her shoulders and my trails shooting in front of us at the same time, the thief spun ninety degrees in the direction not facing Spider-Man and instead the once-abandoned street, which was now filling up with pedestrians peering out of floor-level doors.

Just one more thing to worry about.

With my trails, I brought one each up to the rift between the handles and barrels of the guns, and sliced the metal clean off, allowing half of each firearm to clatter pathetically to the sidewalk as I wrapped each trail around her body next, my hands still clutched to her shoulders from behind. I was careful not to slice her in half as well- the trails almost responded to my mind as I willed them out of auto-kill super-sharp mode like I did with the door handle on Nitara’s apartment compared to the wrought iron flower basket on the apartment’s wall. And, when I was satisfied, I sent a jolt of energy through the trails and inflicted it upon her. I only let go when I was sure she was out cold from the shock.

It stunned me a little, too, though not in the same way. Until Spider-Man walked up to my side and asked me a question, I had zoned out in sheer exhaustion and swayed slightly on my feet.

I guess everything came at a price.

I cursed the laws of physics as Spider-Man waved a hand in front of my masked face. “Hey,” he said. “We should go. The cops are coming. We probably shouldn’t be here when they do, and I wanna talk-”

I had only opened my mouth to respond when a red and blue light illuminated the street to the left, and Spider-Man laced his arm around my waist and wasted no time bolting upwards with a shoot of the webs until we were back on the cement roof, stories above the chaos on the ground and hiding well enough on the centre.

Fascination struck me before embarrassment, and I wapped Spider-Man’s arm that was still slung around my waist, for some reason, with a hard jab from the elbow, hoping he got the message. “What are you doing?”

“Going,” he said with a shrug, scratching the back of his neck. It looked more like a bad habit than a purposeful action, because there was nothing to scratch but spandex. “I, uh- here’s your glove.”

My cheeks burned as I realised that I was still missing my glove. With a quick (gloved) left hand, I snatched it from him without revealing my other palm. Surely he hadn’t seen it from the distance I had waved at him on the awning from.

I slipped the sleek fabric back on- it felt rough against my tattered skin, but concealed it once again.

Spider-Man leaned back on the concrete, his elbows propping him up to my eye-level as I sat to recover. “So, that was kind of a mess down there, huh? I guess I owe you thanks.”

I stared ahead. “Don’t mention it.”

Spider-Man still looked uncomfortable. “No, I mean it. Like… how old are you? Who _are_ you? You handled that better than I could ever imagine.”

Behind my mask, my face shrivelled in disgust. The last thing I needed was Spider-Man _condescending_ me after leaping me onto a rooftop in front of a bunch of people staring out their windows confused at what just happened. Two of Queens’ sort-of-vigilantes beating up some thieves on the roadside. Now I had an old dude trying to hold a conversation with me like I was a project to pick up.

I never did like when big companies bought out the little ones.

“I’m old enough to handle myself,” I said slowly, choosing my words carefully. While I was uncomfortable, if I were going the be a hero and be favourable in the public eye, it wouldn’t exactly hurt to have Spider-Man on my good side. It was the smart move, and heroes were generally smart.

“I never said that,” Spider-Man said, his voice suddenly sounding small and hollow. Like his brain just drained all his vocabulary out his ears. “I just mean… I froze, and you knew exactly what to do. You kept your cool. I’ve been doing this for long enough, but some things still manage to… sneak up on me. In a way.”

“In a way?”

“I can sense it,” Spider-Man explained. “But sensing four guns at the same time doesn’t particularly do me much in terms of solving the problem.”

This time I wavered my gaze to Spider-Man, illuminated by just Queens’ city streets glow. The colours of his suit were dark enough to blend in with the night, but I could still see every detail, every webbed stitch shine. I decided to take a step up on him. “What? You never had a gun pointed at you before?”

Spider-Man scoffed, and this time it definitely struck me as young. Like something I’d hear walking down the halls of Midtown High when someone didn’t make the basketball team final cutoffs. The way he talked, situated carelessly on the ground even when he held half of Queens on his shoulders… no, he couldn’t have been that old at all. Twenty, max. I recognised my generation when I saw it.

 _Say it._ “You’re not that old either, are you?”

Spider-Man perked up. “You said _either_.”

I bit my bottom lip. “I did.”

Way to go. Now he knows you’re just a teenager, at best. Reeeeal smooth, D.

“Balancing this is hard,” Spider-Man said suddenly. “With school. And-and work. And… _life_.” He looked at me like he almost wanted to hear me say something. “I haven’t heard about you much. You just glided out of the shadows. But… balancing _sucks_ ,” he said again. “It’s all a big secret. Which means there are people to protect.”

Well, yeah. I figured that was a given, as we were currently monitoring the Queens skyline. “Somebody has to do it.”

Suddenly, the sound of traffic below faded away and died. Spider-Man looked directly at me. “I always thought it would feel good to be somebody. But I never really thought about the weight that came with it. Or maybe that was an after-the-fact kind of thing.”

 _The weight that came with it_. Suddenly I felt like Atlas. This definitely wasn’t a good time to tell my seemingly new ally, Spider-Man himself, that I had a side plan of revenge up my sleeve. Was that my weight? Or just extra baggage?

“It hasn’t even been long,” I said with a sigh. “And I’m exhausted. I’m confused.” I smiled, though Spider-Man couldn’t see it. “And I have no idea if what I’m doing is right.”

Spider-Man looked off the edge of the building from where we sat, of which pavement began to warm. “If you’re helping people, it’s right. Simple as that.”

I looked off into the distant skyline with Spider-Man. “The city that never sleeps,” I mused, taking in every new rush of commotion, whether it be flashing lights, sirens, yelling from car windows, like a breath of fresh air. “I guess that means we don’t, either.”

Spider-Man leaned back some more. “You get used to it.” A pause. “It might take some growing in to. I don’t know much about your powers, but-”

“You don’t have to,” I blurted, hoping he would stop pushing on a subject that was still setting into the ground. “I mean… they’re pretty complex. The trails.”

I could tell I had spiked Spider-Man’s interests. “So that’s what you call those guys?”

I could tell he wanted more. He was pressing me for more. But the day I gave him more would be the day the world would crumble, because while I liked talking to someone about this, finally someone who understood, they still didn’t need to hear the whole story. It would probably disappoint them. It would disappoint Spider-Man, who’s practically an Avengers rep, it would disappoint Madison, who projects worry like the Batman symbol across the whole city, and it would disappoint the few friends I had that weren’t Nitara. I wasn’t even sure she knew what my full intentions were. Sure, I wanted to find Vulture for an explanation of what he did to me, but I also wanted to beat the shit out of him.

If I was helping people, it was right. Solved, done with.

I didn’t mean to ignore the question, though if presented with the choice to do so, I probably would have let it drift past anyway. “Well, that’s two more criminals off the streets. Less work for tomorrow. I’m just… not sure of their style.”

“Honestly. Those women _were_ wearing three layers. At least.”

Spider-Man laughed. “I mean their criminal style. But you…”

He trailed off, staring at me with his blank white eyes, which were somehow more attuned to the suspicion coursing through his voice than mine. Closer up, his suit had _a lot_ of tech. Most likely all Stark.

A cloud settled over my thoughts.

“How did you hear what I was saying if you were up on the roof?”

My head jolted to face Spider-Man, the cloud disappearing into nothing. “Huh?”

Spider-Man eyed me closer. “How did you hear what I was saying? Is that another one of your powers? Heightened senses? Because that-”

Now instead of the cloud, there was a rainbow. “Makes so much more sense,” I drawled. “The curtains and the moonlight. The charger. Just now. Literally everything.”

My mind stood still as I processed perhaps the most obvious aspect of my powers that I had no knowledge over. “I’m a _moron_.”

“-would be a blessing and a curse,” Spider-Man finished. “Trust me. I would know.”

“It had to be gradual,” I resonated. I hoped I wasn’t stupid enough and caught up in everything to ignore every single sign that my senses had squared themselves. “That’s, like, the only way I wouldn’t notice.”

Spider-Man raised his arm, about to say something, but I was ahead of him by a mile. “Who _knows_ what else I can do. There was that thing in the alley, and everything was dark, but…”

Spider-Man waved his hand at me. “Hey. You good?”

My mouth was dry from breathing fabric and being open in wonder for so long. “Yeah. I’m good.”

* * *

Spider-Man and I spent a bit more time on the roof, occasionally listening to the police conversation for the first little bit below us-just because we could. Then, the sirens faded into the distant streets of New York, and we were left with a cool breeze on the roof.

We spoke about different routes. I would stick to rooftops, for now, seeing as he was more of a natural swinger- though it wasn’t a broken deal for me to try. We both figured that, being from the same area, we’d see each other again soon. Still, we went over different times and availability. After all, our city never slept, so someone would have to be on watch.

“One more thing,” Spider-Man said, crouching on the very edge of the building but facing the other way, watching me about to take the running jump. “What should I call you?”

I grinned. “I think it’s been on the news. But the name is Nightmare.”

Something unrecognisable flickered over the eyes of Spider-Man’s mask. “Well?” I stated. “What about you? You good with Spider-Man?”

I received a solid nod. “From your friendly neighborhood, of course.”

I wore a sly smirk under my mask, and this time as he watched me take my stance, I knew he was aware. “You really are better suited for the day shift.”

A small laugh worked its way out of Spider-Man before he wheeled his arm towards the next roof. “Go!”

I didn’t need him to tell me even once. The rooftops were my highway, and when I jumped, I didn’t look back, because I knew it was a sight that would be waiting for another day.

When I got home, mask removed and tied around my waist, the door was unlocked.

That meant someone was in the apartment.

 _Please be a burglar_ , I thought fiercely as I squeaked open the door as quietly as possible. Inside, it was dimly lit, suggesting Madison had gotten home and immediately gone to bed with just leaving a lamp on. But when I opened the door all the way, she was sitting at the table, staring right at me.

She didn’t say anything. And that probably made it worse. I would rather have a five-minute screaming match with Madison about my whereabouts and have the neighbours file a noise complaint at whatever time of night it was rather than what seemed to be in store for me tonight.

“I called Nitara,” Madison began, her voice quiet. “She said she didn’t know where you were.”

I stared at Madison, about to open my mouth and dump out some lame excuse before she continues and made glad I didn’t lie.

“I called the diner. Marty says you called in last night and weren’t scheduled tonight.”

It was at this moment I realised I needed to refill my lie bank, because I had only a grasp on a single option-Nitara-until Madison ripped it from my grasp.

“And you come home, after midnight,” she says, her voice raising ever so slightly with every word. Maybe I was wrong about the screaming match. “wearing nothing but black. Covered in… in _what?_ What is that, Diana? Dust? Where did you _go?_ ”

I opened my mouth again to speak, but Madison beat me to it. “I went through your wallet. You left it on the couch. And nearly all your tip money is gone. Diana… you know I try. I try so hard to keep what we have and it’s not just _me_ but it’s _your_ responsibility to make a good future, because I can’t keep track of all this-”

Was Madison _crying?_

“I try to be there when I can, and I’m sorry when I can’t, but when you leave like that and don’t come back until _now_ \- on a _school night_ \- I don’t know where you’ve been- what you’ve been doing- _what_ you’ve been doing-”

Our entire conversation- however one-sided it was-shattered to my feet. “Huh? _What_ I’ve been doing? Do- do you think-”

Madison sprung up from her chair. “What am I _supposed_ to think, Diana? You’re gone at night and your money is gone and you come back like this, like everything is fine-”

“It _is_ fine!”

“It’s _not_ fine!”

I wanted to yell back. But I knew that would get nowhere, and I knew that would just get us another complaint that we didn’t need. “The money was the end of last week’s because I didn’t go in yesterday,” I explained softly, still treading lightly. “I bought food, and gave some to Nitara for helping me fix up some clothes. It’s _no big deal_.”

Madison stared at me. Stared a little longer. I craved the last word, partly because my older sister was wrong and partly because I wanted to go to bed, but I had to be frank that it hurt a little when she came to the conclusion that I was on drugs the minute I stepped out of line.

Her voice shook. “I’m working tomorrow night at seven. I won’t be home until four. I need you to feed Chewie, and be here when I leave. You are not leaving-”

I practically screeched. Fuck the neighbors. “Madison!”

“ _You are not leaving_ and I’m letting the lobby know,” she said, flustered but setting her words into stone. “You aren’t coming or going for a while. Nitara can come here, but there is off limits. Diana, what I need for you right now is to focus on school because I can’t see you going down the wrong path.”

“You’re sending me down it _right now_ ,” I fumed. Smoke was all but coming from my ears and ringing the alarm. “You can’t _ground_ me. You’re not mom. Stop trying to be. You’re not the expert of _my life_.”

Madison stared at me in the dim light. Her features were ghostly, and I immediately wanted to reel back on what I said about out mom.

“Wait,” I said, quieter. “Maddy.”

“No leaving,” she said, looking into the space above my shoulder. “Only for work. I have your schedule. So does the desk. I’m going to bed,” she smelts, and her words freeze over me in their opposite effect. “I think you should too.”

She left me in the living room, with an open door and no way out.

* * *

Hi everyone! Author here!

I just wanted to let y’all know that updates will probably be coming out biweekly from now on, depending how busy I am with uni. I failed a big test today :)))))) so i’m writing to forget my problems :)))))))))))))

Anyway I apologise if there are any spelling or grammatical errors in this. I was uploading to wattpad and shivered at the weird ways I spell when I’m writing at four am, but I get really uninterested when it comes to editing my own work, so sometimes I miss things. I’m sorry if this bothers you. Also I’m very sorry this is so late! This was a really fun chapter to write but at the same time it felt like I was choking it out. Writer’s block, you probably know her.

Thank you so much for reading!!!! If you can leave a review because I feel like my writing style could use some work except I’m not sure where to start. Thank you all so much for favouriting/following my story-- more to come soon!!


	11. Extenuating Circumstances, and What's Left Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Diana learns about the Decathlon event, and makes some awkward phone calls. Keeping her heroism a secret proves to be difficult when surrounded by friends in a crisis.

**Extenuating Circumstances, and What’s Left Behind**

**Summary:** Diana learns about the Decathlon event, and makes some awkward phone calls. Keeping her heroism a secret proves to be difficult when surrounded by friends in a crisis.

I woke up to curtains ripped wide open in my room, so the minute the sun crept to the pane’s level, my sleeping in was doomed. I _hated_ it when she did that. Madison must have opened them last night before I came home and I had been too tired to care to look.

I walked out of bed like a zombie.

In the living room, Madison’s bedroom door was wide open, but it was deserted and she was long gone. Some mornings when she didn’t work, she went on a run, on a bike, on a walk, _whatever_ , just to get out of the apartment. Today was one of those days. I hoped it wasn’t because of me.

The sun poured in through the living room window as well, illuminating every single speck of dust that floated over the bar. And, in my regular breakfast spot, were two pamphlets on drug use and one on safe sex.

I threw the one on sex in the wastebasket below the sink.

This was absolutely insane. Madison hadn’t even showed signs of suspicion over me. I mean, sure, she was overly protective, but the fact that she knew I was sneaking out confirmed that I wasn’t as slick as I needed to be. This was biology class all over again: now that there were new rules implemented, it was survival of the fittest. So, according to Darwin, I just needed to overcome this little boundary in order to succeed with Nightmare.

I needed to talk to Nitara. In real life, not over the phone. I had a missed call from her some time last night, probably the same time around when Madison had called her to interrogate the poor girl when she was with Harry, but that was it. And she could wait a few minutes for me to meet her at our street corners.

On my way down the stairs through the lobby, I felt eyes on me from the desk right to when I walked out of the building.

“It’s _humiliating_ ,” I told Nitara, once we had bypassed all major traffic lanes and were on a solid sidewalk to Midtown. “She literally took one look at me and decided _drugs_.”

“You are being kind of weird lately,” Nitara reasoned. “But talk about overreacting.”

I shook my head as we crossed the street next to an alley entrance. Out of habit, my heart jumped as I looked down it, seeing nothing but pavement and a dumpster, farther down. “I didn’t even think she saw me. It’s not like I wasn’t careful.”

“I guess it’s kind of anticlimactic that this whole thing ended before it ever really began.”

Ambition struck me out of nowhere. “It’s not over. I just have to figure a way around the lobby.”

“Maybe you could lay low for a bit,” Nitara suggested, shrugging her shoulders. “The city will still be here when you get un-grounded.”

“In _ruins_ ,” I seethed, clenching the fabric of my gloves. “And Vulture could be long gone and relocated by then. I need to keep an eye out.”

Nitara’s eyes widened slightly. “Woah. I know you hate him-”

I scoffed. “That’s an understatement.”

“-but he shouldn’t be the reason you’re doing this.”

I almost raised my voice, but it would probably be within the people on the streets around us best interest if they couldn’t hear what I was saying. “He _kills_ people. Traps them in alleyways, throws them out of his warehouse. No _secretary_ is going to keep me from having the chance of bringing him down.”

Nitara took a breath. “I know,” she said. “But if you do take him down, it needs to be for the right reasons.”

“Not if,” I corrected, appalled at my best friend’s questioning. “When.”

* * *

As it ended up, I _did_ lie low for the next while. I didn’t resurface as Nightmare for the next week, and no doubt did this raise some curiosity in Spider-Man. I did work once, and left the apartment with a side glance from the secretary as I did so, but nothing more. And, for Madison’s sake, I managed to get home before midnight. I showed her my tip money for the week, and she was satisfied I never went through signs of withdrawal. To her surprise, at least.

And then I was faced with a dilemma on the first day of October.

Harry was currently taking interest in design with Charlotte and Jordyn, which left Peter and I to our own devices concerning our next photography event.

Our gathering in the corner was Betty’s first supervising stop. “Photography! I just wanted to remind you guys about the Decathlon trip to Washington.”

My brow furrowed. “We’re not in Decathlon.”

“Obviously not,” Betty said. “That’s why you guys have to go to take pictures. It’s the finals. If they win, it’ll be great yearbook material.”

Peter and I slowly met each other’s gaze. Travelling to Washington would be, at the very least, awkward as hell, especially for him considering he was now an ex-member of the club. “Betty,” he sputtered, “I don’t- I can’t really leave New York. I have to be here for-”

“For your _internship_ , yeah, yeah,” Betty said, visibly annoyed. “I know you’ve dropped practically everything but yearbook for that, and I honestly don’t know why you’re even here if you can’t help us out. Make up your mind, Peter, and let me know if you really want to come.”

Betty’s attention shifted from Peter to me. “Diana, I know you’ll be there.”

I bit my lip and didn’t look at Betty when I said, “It’s… kind of expensive to go to _Washington_ , Betty.”

“Decathlon’s got you covered! They’re hosting a bunch of different fundraisers. I’m surprised you haven’t seen them around. The bus and hotel rooms should be all paid for. I really hope you won’t let us down, you guys, because photography is practically the foundation of the yearbook.”

“Yeah,” I muttered, while Peter sported a half hearted “yup”. With one last motivational smile, Betty turned and went to the student survey group and started chatting with that everlasting cheerfulness she seemed to always have.

“So,” Peter said, lowering his voice so that everyone, mostly Betty, was out of earshot. “I guess we’ll have to figure out who goes.”

I nodded. “Yeah. I know you have the internship… but I’m kind of looking at you.”

Peter faltered. “What? I thought you’d be good, because it’s all paid-”

“I’m kind of grounded.”

Those words lingered in the air after I said them, and I felt my face flush. What kind of a fifteen-year-old gets _grounded?_

I sighed. The one with the overly protective sister, that’s who.

“Even if it’s for school? Your sister… can’t you just… ask?”

“I wish it was that easy,” I replied. “She’d volunteer herself to be a trip supervisor before letting me go alone.”

Peter grimaced. “Well… New- I mean, Mr. Stark needs me here. So I quite literally _can’t_ leave the city… unless there were some extenuating circumstances.”

I raised my eyebrows. “Are there any circumstances that we can extenuate?”

Peter grinned. “If you can create an Avengers level threat in Washington, then maybe.”

I laughed. “It’s probably more likely to happen than Madison letting me go.”

Half an hour later, still neither of us told Betty that we were both unavailable, and neither of us wanted to, so Peter and I snuck out of the basement early so we could go to both of our lockers before the bell. If worst came to worst, I could send my camera with Nitara and have her give it to one of the eight people who go to actually watch the Decathlon in the audience.

When we were both at my locker, our second stop, I brought up the _next_ event going on in school, the week after Decathlon. “So, considering Homecoming is actually _in town_ … do you think you’re going to go?”

Peter shrugged. “I’m not sure. Dances kind of stress me out. Plus, the internship…”

“Is twenty-four, seven,” I deduced. It seemed like Peter hardly had a life outside the Stark internship. I, on the other hand, had no life because I was _grounded_ , so I stopped comparing myself to him for my own sake. “I get that, though. I probably won’t go, because Nitara seems to be leaning towards going with Harry, and I’m not going to just show up alone… plus, I’m grounded.”

“Awe.” Peter shrugged his falling backpack strap back onto the top of his shoulder. I noticed it looked different than his old one- now it was green. “Hopefully your sister- Madison- loosens up. Especially for Homecoming.”

I snorted, slamming my locker just as the bell rang. “We’ll see about that.”

“Hey,” Peter called to me, just as I was planning to part ways to go to my next class. The hallway was beginning to flood with kids, but I stayed in the middle of it. “We should all do something together sometime. Like, I’m friends with Harry, and you’re friends with Nitara…”

I smiled through the few people who walked in between us. “That would be cool! After… you know. Madison.”

Peter waved before turning to go the opposite way, but I stayed standing in the middle of the busy hallway. That _would_ be cool. Really cool.

* * *

“So,” Nitara asked on our way home from school, more excited than usual. “What are you doing tonight?”

I huffed. “ _Working_. Why?”

Nitara shrugged. “I don’t know. I just thought maybe you’d want to hang out with Harry and I.”

I frowned. “You know I can’t do anything. Madison will track me down like a vulture if I’m not home on time.”

Nitara grinned. “Unless…”

I could tell Nitara had one of her classic cataclysmic ideas forming inside her head. “ _Unless_ you just tell Madison you work later than normal. Then Harry and I can just swing by the diner and bring you with us.”

I scoffed at all the things that could go wrong with that plan. Madison has called me at the diner before, and if she did that tonight, I wouldn’t be there to answer her. Maybe she would say no and demand me to come home because she’s never liked my job anyway. If I _did_ get caught, I would be grounded until college, one hundred percent.

“I know you’re thinking of everything that could go wrong with that,” Nitara said, reading my mind. “But we haven’t hung out outside of school in over a week. And I want you to meet Harry. Actually _meet_ him, not just ask for his woodshop advice. I think it’s getting kind of serious.”

I blushed. “Nitara, I don’t want to third wheel.”

“Don’t sweat it. We’ve already been to the movies and had my dad come along. It was kind of awkward, but Harry is super chill.”

I grinned. “That sounds like something your dad would do.”

Nitara’s dad, although strict, was really nice. He’s always working during the week, usually during the weekend, and Nitara says he’s saving up to buy a bigger apartment in a less sketchy part of town for when her grandmother finally comes over from India. Unlike me, Nitara was first gen, and her family kind of struggled after her parents divorced. As busy as he is, he’s seemingly always there for Nitara when she needs him, or when she needs some quality alone time with a rich boy at the cinema. Awkward as he may be, he was also there for our family when our dad died, because he worked and went to school with our mom. In fact, that was how I met Nitara. Through him.

Sometimes I wished Madison could be _supportive_ like Nitara’s dad instead of a paranoid control freak. _Nitara’s_ dad wouldn’t have assumed that late night sneaking out meant I was doing drugs and having sex. I figured I deserved to do some normal teenage activities.

“You know what? I’m done work at eight. You guys can meet me there.”

Nitara added a skip to her walk. “I knew you would say yes!”

“Wait,” I said, suddenly remembering my earlier conversation with Peter. “What if I called Peter and asked him to come tonight? He just mentioned we should all do something together as a group. Because we all know each other.”

“That sounds fun,” Nitara said. “Do you have his number?”

I pulled out my phone and clicked Peter’s contact. “I got it from yearbook last week.”

I pulled Nitara aside to the wall of the building we were walking against so we were out of the way of the sidewalk. The phone rang once, twice. I held it closer to my ear. Three times. Four. I heard Peter’s voice, and almost opened my mouth to say something when I realised it was automated.

“ _Hi, you’ve reached Peter. I can’t take your call right now- Ned, stop it- but leave a message. Uh, if this is Stark Industries please text me or call May. Tha-”_

The voicemail beeped, and I gave Nitara a panicked glance before I started talking. “Oh, hi- Peter. This is Diana. And I’m with Nitara, and I’m gonna be with Harry, tonight, and I was just wondering if you wanted to hang out with us tonight. If you do, call Harry, because I’ll be at work until eight… but I hope to see you later. Bye.”

I hung up and cringed. “I _hate_ leaving voice messages.”

Nitara laughed. “You sounded half lucid to me. I think he’ll get the point.”

I rolled my eyes and slid my phone back into my pocket. “I hope so.”

I parted ways with Nitara at the end of the street, and ran the rest of the way to Queens Diner so I wouldn’t be late, because I still had to change. That phone call wasn’t even the hardest one I had to make tonight- ringing Madison would prove to be hell.

* * *

The diner was _dead_. I would have to pretend to call Madison from a closet if I were going to convince her it was packed. I figured I would wait until just before eight, when I got off, before Nitara and Harry got here, but I should have known they would come early. My phone buzzed to an Instagram message from Nitara, which meant Harry was letting her borrow his phone. I didn’t have to check it to know that it was them in the sleek black car, parked in the deserted lot. It wasn’t the ’74 Charger that Nitara bragged Harry’s driver drove them around in, but it was still sophisticated enough to stand out in the unpaved, dimly lit parking lot.

I had scattered words in my mind of what I wanted to say. No matter how smooth I could plan this, talking to Madison would never be the same of talking to her inside of my head, because she always managed to be unpredictable. I saw Marty restocking the drinks fridge, and I wanted to ask him if he would stand up for me if Madison called back later and I wasn’t here, but then I figured that would be unprofessional.

It was _also_ unprofessional to use work as an excuse to go out. This I knew, and I had a sick feeling kind of forming in my gut from the possibility of Madison interfering, but I had to do this if I wanted the slightest chance at having the coveted ‘normal teenage life’.

I dialed our apartment. One ring. My hand was sweating. Two rings. I could already feel a cramp blooming. Three rings-

“Hello?”

“Madison!” I exclaimed, already flustering at the most predictable word someone could say when answering the phone. “It’s Diana. I-”

“I know it’s you,” Madison said. “No one ever calls here. What’s up? Are you still at work?”

“Yeah, that’s what I wanted to call you about.” My hand trembled, and I looked through the windows at Harry’s car. I was pretty sure he didn’t have his license yet- he probably had a chauffeur. I gawked at the idea. Lowering my voice, in case Marty did hear me from the fridge in the other part of the diner, I said, “Listen. I know my shift is supposed to be over at eight, but we just got a call, and soon there’s, like, a whole sports team coming in. Some basketball team just won a tournament, or something. I don’t know, but they’re coming to celebrate, and Marty needs me to stay and help.”

I puckered my lips and played with the phone cord awaiting my sister’s response. This wasn’t so bad. I thought I sounded pretty natural. But then Madison didn’t say anything, and I could tell she wasn’t happy with what I had just told her. “We’re short tonight,” I argued. “Do you want me to put you on with Marty? Because he’s really busy and I can’t be on the phone for much longer-”

“ _Fine_ ,” Madison said, exasperated but finally breaking her defense. “What time do you need to stay until?”

“I should be home before midnight,” I said, ignoring Nitara’s waving hands in my peripheral vision, now poking out of the car windows. “But honestly, no promises.”

Heat rose to my head as I awaited my sister’s reply. If I was caught in this lie, there was no leaving the house ever again. I could kiss goodbye my job, and this might even be the last straw for hanging out with Nitara, at least for a while.

After an episode of silence, I lied through my teeth some more. “There’s a whole sports team coming tonight. I can’t miss this much tip money.”

“I’ll let the secretary know before they close. I won’t be here when you get home either. I have a late shift. But _be careful_ , okay? Maybe call someone you know to walk home with you. Trust me, you just don’t want to be out after midnight.”

It was like a weight was lifted off my chest, and I could finally breathe the air of freedom. “I’ll ring Nitara. Thank you-”

The line was dead.

I hung the phone carelessly on the red hook, and took off my apron, throwing it in the laundry before waving goodbye to Marty- it was eight, on the dot. As I walked outside, I took my hair out of its ponytail, letting my natural waves do what they wanted free of their hair elastic. Nitara opened the door to the side of the car from the inside, just as I took off my visor. “I _told_ her around midnight,” I began. “But-”

“Yeah, I figured,” she mumbled, taking Harry’s hand, who sat on the other side and waved with his free one. “That’s still a few hours, I guess.”

“If you’d let me finish,” I said, “She has to work the late shift tonight. So she’ll have no idea what time I come home at.”

A slow smile crept across Nitara’s face. “Today’s our lucky day.”

* * *

I wasn’t sure what radio station Harry had on, or if it was him or his chauffeur playing the music, but _Everlong_ was playing so loud that I was beginning to get a headache, even with the windows halfway down. When I got in, Harry and I had exchanged greetings, and that was kind of it, because we were only acquaintances and I figured that if Peter were coming, he would already have been in the car. There was even a tinted window installed between us and the driver, so I couldn’t see who it was. It screamed nothing short of _rich_ to me, and I was practically in awe. Madison and I didn’t even have a car- the only person who did in our family, dead or alive, was my older sister Vienna, who I haven’t seen in four months- she bought a farm with her fiancée last year, and ever since then, we’ve never had the time or energy to make our ways in and out of the city to see her. Madison’s job didn’t let us leave often, either, because it seemed she was always on call.

Now that I thought about it, it wasn’t much different from Peter’s stupid internship. I wondered at what point jobs became more important than family and friends.

Above the music, I ended the silence by practically yelling, “ _Where are we going?_ ”

Harry looked over at me and grinned. “You know my dad runs OSCORP,” he enlightened.

I raised my eyebrows. “I do now.”

Nitara almost snorts. “Wait, you didn’t know that? Are you serious?”

I threw my hands up. “I don’t know a lot of things! You _know_ I don’t keep up with business and anything going on in the outer world-”

Nitara leaned back into the long seat of the car. “I figured you would have started looking in to this kind of stuff, all things considered.”

I hit the side of her arm. “Shut up, would you?”

Harry laughed at me hitting my best friend. “You guys have an interesting dynamic.”

I shrugged. “It’s too bad we’ll never know what our dynamic would be like with Peter here.”

Harry leaned back and put his arm around Nitara, who gladly moved closer to his side, and at that moment I _did_ feel like a third wheel. “I don’t really know what’s going on with him lately. He’s been kind of weird even _before_ the internship started. Like, maybe six months ago is when he started being busy all the time. It sucks he can never hang out.”

The song ended, and there was a moment before the next one played where everything was silent and Peter’s absence was strung up in the air, unmoving. It felt _really weird_ without him.

“Where are we going tonight?” Nitara asked, before I could comment again on Peter’s whereabouts.

“Manhattan,” Harry said with a grin, gazing back out the window to the streets that always looked the same. “I’m going to take you guys up the tower.”

“Like last time?” Nitara basically wore puppy dog eyes as she looked at Harry. “Is your dad going to be there tonight? I haven’t- if I had known we were seeing him I would have dressed better-”

“Don’t panic,” Harry said simply. “We’re not seeing him tonight. He’s in Buffalo right now in a conference. It’s just gonna be us and the security lady that never leaves her post up there.”

Nitara huffed. “How romantic.”

“Don’t worry,” I said. ‘Any chance at tonight being romantic was ruined the second I got in the car. Still here, remember?”

That actually made Nitara smile, and move a little bit out of Harry’s grasp. The chauffeur put his foot on the pedal, because all of a sudden we left the intersection at a high speed. I rolled across the seat, hitting the door, and burst out laughing when I got back up.

“You’re not sixteen,” Harry laughed. “Put your seatbelt on or we’ll get charged.”

This time _I_ laughed. “Poor you. Your dad is going to have to work another three seconds to pay that one off.”

The moment I said that I expected Harry to stop the car and make me walk back to my apartment from the edge of Queens, but he chuckled and turned up the radio. Even Nitara laughed after her initial shock that I had just bullied her boyfriend’s dad. Rolling the windows all the way, wind entered the car twice as fast as before, and my hair started to whip in my face. Leaving my seatbelt off, I stuck part of my head out the window and let my hair flow behind me. That was how the rest of the drive went, and Peter didn’t come up again.

* * *

The view from the top of the OSCORP tower was, in one word, insane. Mesmerizing, maybe. Galactic. I had never seen New York from higher than the rooftops I ran on as Nightmare, and people were like grains of sand compared to their normally ant-sized façade atop the apartment buildings I jumped. And at night, the lights were blinding. The gale nearly blew off my Islanders cap- I used a hand to keep it snug over my hair. It used to be my mom’s, and under no circumstance was I about to let it fall one hundred and eight stories to the streets below.

I was making a habit of staring down on the streets for theft, assault, any kind of crime I was brave enough to intervene with, that Nitara had to take a break from leaning against Harry for warmth to putting an arm around my back and squeezing my shoulder. “You’re tense,” she commented, but it sounded like a whisper in the wind. “Forget about Madison, about everything. You can worry about it when you’re back down on the ground.”

That didn’t make it any easier. My problems from the ground had followed me hundreds of feet into the air, because when I looked at Harry holding Nitara, the only thing embracing me was the gale that would whip by, colder and colder with every bite at my skin, and I noticed the emptiness around me far too much. I knew what was missing, even though I tried to push it from my mind.

 _Oh, hi-Peter. …I hope to see you later_.

I wrapped the fluttering sleeves of my work blouse around my chest and leaned against the railing. It only hit me then to take a picture. _Duh_. To think that I called myself a photographer, yet stared at a skyline for over fifteen minutes without capturing the moment.

The only camera I had on me was my phone. It was fine.

The image in the lens reminded me of a puzzle I had back in our apartment. My dad was obsessed with puzzles, and I would always do them with him and my sisters, but after he died in the battle five years ago our mom had put them away in the back of the closet with his other significant belongings. Now hers were there, too.

It was practically the spitting image of the puzzle, and I had to wonder if the photograph was taken in the same place as I was now.

My phone suddenly felt heavy in my pocket, and I wanted Peter to be here too. Taking photos was weird without doing it with him. But if he cared, I suppose he would have checked his voice mail and called back.

I checked _my_ voice mail. Zero new calls.

“Sucks that Peter wasn’t here,” Harry commented, once again reading my mind. “He missed a fun night.”

Going out for fast food and then climbing twelve sets of stairs after a lengthy elevator ride shouldn’t have been the time of my life, but after being holed up at home for so long, I had to agree that it felt good to be out.

“It’s just past twelve,” Nitara commented, checking her ornate wrist watch. “I should be getting back. I told my dad I wouldn’t be out too late.”

“I can get my driver to take us back to Queens,” Harry suggested.

“That would be great,” I said without a hint of joy. “Except Madison thinks I’m at work. If she sees me in your car…”

“We could take a walk back to your place. I’ll just park a few blocks away. It’s a nice night anyway.”

Nitara grinned. “And I’ll just tell my dad your car broke down. He’ll love you even more for walking me back.”

I shifted uncomfortably. “Um, guys? You don’t have to walk, I can just go a few blocks on foot-”

Harry laughed. “Don’t be ridiculous, Diana. We’re not just going to let you walk alone, especially through Queens.”

I gave him a sly smile as we took one last glance at the city from the roof and walked back through the doors. “I can take care of myself. But I wouldn’t mind some company.”

Harry gave me a look, almost a disbelieving one, as we started back down the stairs. If only he knew how much I could take care of myself. I almost laughed at the idea, but I noticed I had kind of killed the conversation, and we didn’t get one going again on the way back down the elevator to the first floor, where Harry’s car stood idle.

Even through the tinted window, I could see the chauffer’s bored gaze focusing on no particular object. “He looks bored,” I commented.

Harry reached for the doorhandle so that Nitara could step inside. “He gets paid twenty-nine dollars an hour.”

I shut my mouth and walked around to my side of the car.

There was softer music playing on the radio this time, and I spent the ride with the window down and my hair flying whilst Harry and Nitara engaged in some low talking. For October, and the fact that we were back on the ground again, it was a considerably warm night. Even with the three of us, there was still room on the car-wide seat for a fourth person, but instead of Peter I got to sit with a big pile of empty.

Besides that, though, tonight had been good. I needed to get out of the apartment and actually _see_ people.

Once we hit Queens, we drove for a bit longer until we passed the diner again, and a few blocks after that, Harry knocked on the glass to talk to the driver. There weren’t many parking lots in the neighbourhood, so I wasn’t surprised when he just pulled up to a curb on Winter street. I also wasn’t surprised when he locked the car doors immediately after we got out and shut off the light.

“He’ll be fine,” Harry said, beginning to walk down the sidewalk with one hand in his pocket and another in Nitara’s hand. “We have bulletproof windows.”

I wished that I could have said it was ridiculous to imagine the driver getting robbed at gunpoint, but this was America, and not even two weeks ago was I taking care of those armed robbers with Spider-Man. So instead of questioning it, I figured it was a pretty smart move.

“It’s so cold,” Nitara murmured, wrapping her whole arm around Harry’s waist as we walked. “Oh- I left my jacket in your car.”

“Here’s mine,” Harry said, pausing to take his thin coat off. I bet it didn’t do anything for the cold anyway. But still, he gave it to Nitara, and she didn’t complain again.

 _I_ thought it was warm out in nothing more than long sleeves. “You guys are Instagram-worthy,” I muttered with an eye roll. They were stupid for each other, but I wished I could be stupid with someone too. In the meantime, I wrapped my arms around myself and held my own hands.

Until somebody yanked them apart and pointed a gun in my face.

“Against the wall, and _don’t scream_ ,” he said, loud enough for us to hear but not to wake up the people in the building behind us. I did, and I felt fine, until the barrel of the gun left my face. _That_ was when my heart started to pound a little too hard against my chest and I had to actually focus to keep my legs from shaking. The guy pointed the gun at Nitara, who yelped until he repeated his threat, and then at Harry, who looked as pale as chalk as he joined Nitara and I.

The guy looked pretty satisfied with himself as he stood back, keeping his gun up. “Alright. Let’s make this quick. _You_ ,” he said, motioning the gun to Nitara, “open your purse.”

I stole a glance at Nitara, who was in between Harry and I, and she was already crying enough for the both of us. Slowly, she slid her purse down her arms. It was a soft, floral one with a metal clasp at the top, just big enough to fit our Spanish textbook. “ _Please_ ,” she mouthed at me, from behind her hair. “ _Do something_.”

Instead of doing something, I stood and watched her reluctantly hold out her purse, absolutely frozen. Time was moving an inch a minute.

“Open it!” the man pushed, and for the first time, I got a good look at him from the streetlight he stood under. He had a beard and moustache, and had scraggly brown, unkempt hair that looked like an Obi-Wan mullet. Other than that, he wore leather. Leather jacket, and leather pants. His shoes were probably leather, too.

Nitara pulled her purse open and stared at the guy. “Okay. I want _you_ ,” he said, pointing his gun back at me, “to put your phone and any cash you got in there.”

I nearly fell over. Not only did I have the world’s easiest password, a bunch of zeroes, but I had Nightmare pictures on there. Places I’d been, trails in action, texts to Nitara, everything. I _could_ beat the shit out of this guy if I were fast enough. He would certainly be caught off guard if Nightmare herself sprung a trail on him.

But as I dropped my phone in the purse with the few dollars I had in my pocket, I looked at Harry. No way was I blowing my cover over this. That was never, ever going to happen. For all I knew, Harry would rat to his dad, and half the school, and that would mean no more Nightmare and that I was grounded for life.

“Your hat, too,” he said, eyeing me down.

My face drained of any blood that was left. “It’s worn,” I said. “Why-”

“Do it, bitch,” he sneered, waving his gun closer to my face. “You’re lucky I give a damn about wasting bullets.”

With one shaking, sweaty hand, I took off my mom’s dusty old Islander’s cap and said goodbye as I put it in Nitara’s purse. I caught her eye again, and she just stared at me with a gaping mouth. Like she couldn’t believe what I was doing. Neither could I.

“And _you_ ,” he said, pointing the gun back at Harry. “I bet your daddy gives you allowance in gold bars. Haven’t happen to have one on you, huh?”

Swiftly, Harry pulled out his wallet and dropped two, three, then four hundred-dollar bills into the purse, followed by some twenties and change.

“A bag,” Nitara sobbed, her hands quivering as she held out her purse. “Please, I can get a bag. This was my grandmother’s. It’s all I have of hers.”

I closed my eyes and cringed. The man crept closer to Nitara, so close, that he pressed the barrel of the gun against Nitara’s forehead. “Your grandmother can rot in hell, kid. I’m taking it, and then I’m taking your stuff, and then I’m gonna toss it. Check the dumpsters next week and you _might_ get lucky.”

I didn’t look until I felt him step away. “Down on the ground,” he clipped. “Y’all are going to count to fifty. Mississippi style. When you’re done, I’ll be gone, and you can thank me for having the class to _not_ shoot any of you brats.”

Simultaneously, we all knelt down to the ground, and watched as he left in a sprint in the way we’d came. After he ducked in an alley, one we had passed on the way down, I stood up and took a breath.

I would fix this.

“Harry,” I whispered. “Take Nitara home and then call your driver and tell him to watch out. Have him pick you up at the apartment.”

“ _What?_ What about you? Diana, we just got-”

“Fucking _robbed_ , I know! Just go, okay? I’ll be fine.”

“No,” Harry said. “No way. You saw that guy. You’re not walking back that way alone.”

“Harry, if he wanted, he could have just kidnapped us all. He’s long gone by now. I bet he’s from Brooklyn or something. That’s how criminals work, you know? They don’t stick around spots. Just let me go and _trust me_ when I say I can handle myself.”

Nitara stared at me with a stone cold face. “It’s not out fault if he gets you, then. You know, because you can _handle yourself_.”

I wanted to say anything that would make her feel better, but that would have to wait, because I had a robber to track down. “I’ll see you at school tomorrow.”

* * *

I hadn’t run so hard since the beep test in gym. My shoes slammed against the pavement with every step like cymbals, and my throat was dry as if I had just played my clarinet for twelve hours straight. I got to my building in record time, and made my way round the side.

The recycling bins I usually kept stacked were on the ground, emptied. _Fuck_. Today was garbage day. I looked up at the fire escape with two options- I could waste five minutes using the stairs, _or_ I could use my trails and ruin the back of a perfectly good shirt.

I sidestepped until I thought of his face. Shirt it was.

There were no windows on the bottom floor of this side of the apartment, and no cameras that I knew of, so I shot four trails out from behind me and twirled them around the fire escape platform two stories up. It barely broke a sweat doing that, which was good considering I had hardly any more sweat to break.

Was Madison home? I couldn’t remember. Thoughts were scrambled in my head as I booked it up the escape and to my window which I prayed Madison hadn’t locked when she opened my curtains earlier. With one hard yank, the window opened, and I let out a breath of air that I hadn’t known I was holding in. I crawled through, one leg at a time, and hurriedly bounced on my left foot in order to get my whole right leg through.

If Madison was up, or home, she _definitely_ heard that. Maybe our neighbours below us, too.

It didn’t matter. My door was closed, and just for good measure, I took my clothing covered desk chair and shoved it up against the handle. In a flash, I was ripping apart my closet. At the back, all on one hanger, was my uniform. Suit, if you would. I practically ripped off my clothes, said goodbye to the shirt I had on that now had four tears burned into the back, and threw on my black top and mask. My hair, although windblown, was still straightened, not my natural curl, but it would have to do, because I didn’t have time to dunk my hair in water. Whipping my mask on, I had everything I needed. Lastly, though, I felt my legging pocket for my phone, which was still gone. Right.

I would have it back soon.

I cracked my window open once again, this time prepared for what I was getting myself into. This guy had no idea who he was messing with. I almost laughed at the fact that out of everybody in Queens, he had to point his gun at Nightmare.

And I knew where to find him.

What I told Harry hopefully got him off my back. I would bet money (if I still had some) that he was still there, because when he told Nitara to check next week’s dumpster, he wasn’t going anywhere. Not for a while, really.

Before I knew it, I was running at top speed back to where it had happened, hoping that Harry heeded my advice and got a lift from Nitara’s, because if he saw me, it was over. I didn’t take him as a total genius, but seeing Nightmare on an errand after getting robbed alongside someone with the same hair _and_ voice would just be a dead giveaway.

To my comfort, Harry was nowhere in sight, and the street was deserted of cars. Lights that were on in some windows were now turned off, and streetlamps were the only means of light. So when I slowed down and inched toward the alley I saw the guy disappear in, I knew I would have the advantage in the dark.

That’s when it happened.

Around me, I saw just a silver lining around a darkness that emerged from in front of me, behind me, _from_ me, who knew. But it was the same stuff from the night with Vulture, and it spilled around me like ink in the air, and everywhere it touched, like a cloud, became pitch black.

But I could still see clear as day.

I didn’t even try to wrap my head around what was happening when I heard distinct chatter come from down the alley. Why was it always an alley? Still in the midst of the mysterious cloud of darkness, I took slow steps towards the voices. The talking picked up, and I assumed that they couldn’t see me, but they _could_ see the looming blackness that strayed their way. I decided to overlook the portentousness of the situation, and made a point to step on dry leaves, wrappers, pieces on scrap tin or cardboard, whatever would make noise to let the people at the end of the small alley know I was coming.

They were frozen, like I was when I had a gun pointed in my face. I spotted my target immediately- he was hunched behind someone standing in front of him, and they were holding something pretty familiar in one hand, and a wad of cash in the other.

“I hear someone,” the looming person said. “Did you guys set me up?”

“No!” the man who robbed me stood alert, and pushed who the first person, who must have been their buyer, out of the way. He pulled out his gun, and I heard the bullet spin into position. With a couple more steps, I stopped and stood silently, crossing my arms even though I knew they couldn’t see. “Who are you? What is that stuff?”

“It looks like gas,” one other guy said. “Or poison-”

The buyer dropped the purse and stuffed their money into a hoodie pocket. Hair covered their whole face, but I could see pink and green streaks in it. “I’m out.”

I didn’t care about them, or the fact that they left to jump over a familiar sounding dumpster that blocked off a clean exit out of the alley. The person I _did_ care about, however, was holding a gun at me, which was a problem.

I took a silent step to the side, and just as I did, the gun went off in the middle of the alley, but not where I stood at the side. He shot again and again, probably not sure if he hit anyone or not, while his buddies also crept slowly towards the dumpster to get out.

I was close enough that the cloud of darkness’ perimetre was the same distance from me as it was for him. Without wasting another second, I ignited two trails and shot them at the thief. One for the gun, which I sliced apart in seconds, and another for him. He didn’t even have the time to look shocked as I threw him against the building, tightening the hold of the trail around him. I let the smallest amount of sharpness seep through, and I could smell the metallic scent of blood soak the air around us.

“Shit,” I heard someone say from the top of the dumpster. I didn’t have to look to shoot a trail all the way to their chest, and as I pulled it back, I heard them hit the ground with a strained groan. By now, the darkness covered the both of us.

“What are you?” the man breathed as I crept closer, pinning him against the wall like he did to me. “What are you? What are you doing?”

“I’m sure you remember what you did tonight,” I said, not intending my words to sound as menacing as they came out. “You took something.”

“I-I didn’t-I was just buying-”

I tightened my trail against his skin, cutting deeper into the circumference of his skin. “Don’t _lie_ to me. I saw you.”

“Okay,” he breathed, his voice becoming raspier. “Okay, I did, but-”

“But what?”

He didn’t answer, so I punched the side of his head with my left hand just to throw him off. “That’s what I thought. But nothing.”

I slowly unwound the trail from his waist, and it slid away slowly enough for him to feel it. When it did, I took a step back and let him take a sigh of momentarily relief. I didn’t let it last long- with both trails, I threw him against the side of the dumpster and lavished in the clang that rang through the alley after he hit the metal. “Usually I call the police,” I told him. “But… time is like bullets. I didn’t want to waste theirs on you.”

Nitara’s purse was on the ground next to me, so I picked it up and shook it. Our stuff was inside. Slinging it around my shoulder, I walked over to the robber and bent down next to him on the ground.

“I’m going to take _your_ purse,” I said, yanking his wallet out of his pocket and his cell phone from his pants. I took his hand and pressed it against the phone, unlocking it. It was an iPhone, so I navigated to the settings and used his thumbprint to delete the password. “Now I know who you are, and I know who you know. So if I were you, I wouldn’t do this _stealing_ stuff anymore, or I’ll find you. Trust me. I’ll find your friends. So _stay away_ from this, or you’ll see me again.”

He let out a small wheeze.

“ _Got it?_ ”

“Yes,” he said, bringing his knees into his stomach.”

I got back onto my feet. “And you should stop buying leather, too. It’s cruel.”

I walked away, as quickly and as silently as I had arrived, but the darkness lingered in the alley. 


	12. Stupid Vendettas, and the Power of Sarcasm

**Stupid Vendettas, and the Power of Sarcasm**

**Summary:** Nitara is less than impressed by Diana’s means of revenge, but D isn’t finished yet.

The last thing I wanted to do the next day was go to school, especially when it hit me it was only Tuesday. October fourth. The Decathlon was in nine days- the bus for Washington would leave next Thursday. That meant I had less than two weeks to either convince Madison to let me go, or try to make Peter go.

I rolled reluctantly out of bed, and the first thing I noticed was how my knees were still sore from running last night. The second was Nitara’s grandma’s purse of goodies hanging on my bedpost. I pushed off my quilt, and noticed the third thing- I was still in my uniform, and yesterday’s shirt was in a crumpled mess on my already cluttered floor.

I ran my hands through my semi-straightened hair and groaned.

“What’s the matter?”

Madison’s voice made me jump, and I wondered when she got home from work. I heard her footsteps coming closer to my door, and I was suddenly awake. If she opened that door, I would be grounded beyond college. For life, probably.

“Uh-Nothing! Don’t come in! I’m changing!”

A classic. I heard her stop right outside of my door, and the handle only twisted slightly before returning to its original position. “Oh. Okay…I made breakfast.”

I was frozen on my bed, already fueled by adrenaline. “Cool. Thanks.”

I sighed quietly at how awkward things had gotten between us. Madison always made it clear to me that she wasn’t trying to be a parent to me- no one could replace mom, or even dad. But lately it didn’t seem that way, and what we had was missing. I didn’t have the heart to tell her what she already knew- I hardly ever ate breakfast, and I wasn’t particularly interested in what she was cooking- it was probably her supper, considering she just worked the night shift.

I heard her walk away from the door, and let out a breath I didn’t know I was holding in. Hadn’t she ever heard of knocking?

Before I even got dressed, I picked up last night’s shirt from the floor. The front was perfect, but the back had several holes scorched through the fabric, and the edges around them were singed as if something hot had burnt through it. It looked like my blouse from that first night in the alley. The shirt I was wearing now was the same, but it held together well enough to still hide my back, especially with the help from my hair. The shirt was dark and indistinguishable- I supposed I could start using it for Nightmare if my current one ever wore out.

Just to be safe, I shoved it in the back of my closet before getting dressed.

Madison didn’t lie about breakfast being made- there were four empty instant oatmeal packages on the counter, and a bowl full of the stuff next to it. The fruit basket on the table had been restocked, and Madison was cutting away at some of the oranges on the bar.

I tightened Nitara’s purse around my shoulder and tried to quietly walk past Madison, who’s back was turned, but ultimately failed.

“D!” she said, turning around happily. My sister looked absolutely exhausted, but wore a glowing smile. “I made food. Also-”

“You’re chipper,” I muttered, eyeing the array of food.

“Finch is coming tonight for supper. He’s back from his client in Albany. And don’t worry- he’s going to be the one cooking. You don’t work, do you?”

My next words rolled off my tongue easier than a lie should have. “Yeah, I do. I wish you would have told me sooner.”

Madison let the knife clatter to the cutting board and aggressively turned on the sink tap to wash her hands. “Shit, Diana. I don’t know why you need that job.”

“Because I wouldn’t be leaving the house at _all_ without it! And you know that I need to book days off a week in advance, so why didn’t you say so earlier?”

Madison sighed. “I wanted it to be a surprise. But never mind that. Let me get you some oatmeal.”

I took a banana from the fruit bowl and picked up my backpack from next to the door, slinging it a little too hard over my free shoulder. “I’m good. I’ll see you later tonight.”

“Wait! When do you get off?”

“Eight,” I called on my way out the door. “And I’m walking home. Don’t wait up.”

I swung the door closed a little harsher than intended, but I wasn’t about to go back and apologise. Despite being early, I jogged down the stairs and past the front desk in my apartment, not even looking at the secretary. I clung to Nitara’s and my bags through my maroon gloves with equal force as I rushed out the doors and back down the streets. The daylight was sharp against my eyes, but I booked it to Midtown.

Of course, on my way I stopped at Nitara and mine’s corner. I sat on the nearest bench to wait, because I was still fairly early, and ate my banana. Time moved slowly, but as my watch neared our meeting time, I began to think Nitara wouldn’t show up.

This was weird. Nitara was _never_ late, and this was the quickest route to Midtown. Before I knew it, I had to leave without her if I wanted to make it on time.

I ran the rest of the way to school, hit my locker and walked into Spanish alongside the bell, only to see Nitara in her regular spot.

_What?_

* * *

I spent the first half of lunch tracking her down. Right after Spanish ended, Nitara was out the door before I could even snap my binder shut. So, she was _mad_ at me. Like we were ten years old.

It was only after I’d checked all of the usual spots- the family studies room, where the sewing machines were vacant, the cafeteria, where Michelle sat alone at our table, the spot in the hallway across from our lockers where we would eat if the cafeteria was full- when I found her by accident. I had given up and gone outside to sit with Peter, Ned and Harry on the fence where I’d seen them go on sunny days like today at lunch, only to find Nitara’s back aligned with the rest of them staring out at the street.

I came prepared with her purse in my hand. I would just give it to her, and she would forget this whole thing ever happened. Hopefully.

“…and he took off with my purse, which had practically all of our money and phones. Not to mention it belonged to my grandmother,” I heard Nitara say to Peter and, next to him, Ned. Harry had an arm slung around her back going in circles as she told her story.

Peter, even from behind, looked uncomfortable as he said, “Someone… someone should’ve been there to help you guys.”

I felt every drop of blood in my body rush to my head. It was my responsibility to have helped Nitara, and I _didn’t_. Peter didn’t even know about Nightmare neglecting her duties lately and he could see it.

I started to sweat a little. This shouldn’t have even been in question. I wasn’t a hero if I didn’t help my friends when it mattered. In the moment, I was confident enough that nothing bad was going to happen to Nitara and Harry. I could tell now that Nitara didn’t share my confidence.

Was it selfish? Was protecting my identity, in front of Harry, better for me or them? If people discovered who I was, I would immediately have a target on my back. But so would they. And I couldn’t live with myself if Nitara or Harry or Peter or even Ned, who I barely knew, got hurt because of me. So, in that case, it wasn’t selfish to stay hidden, but Harry would never tell anybody about me, right?

My mind immediately went back to that night. I didn’t have my mask, so the criminal would have seen my face. Which would have been fine, because I’m a nobody, but Harry’s face, besides being hard to forget, was an OSCORP staple. If you knew what his dad looked like, you knew him. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to find out who were the kids Harry ate his lunch with. Instant target.

So I tried telling myself that I did the right thing, even though it felt like I was drowning in guilt.

“Nitara,” I said, making myself known as all four heads turned to my attention. “Hey.”

Nitara’s face was blank, and everybody was frozen until Peter got Ned to shuffle over and make room for me on the fence. It was only when I jumped up in between Nitara and Peter, to one’s suffering and one’s delight, that she noticed the distinct floral bag slung around my shoulder.

Nitara was speechless, and Harry wasn’t even looking over. It took Ned to say, “Nitara, isn’t that your purse?”

 _This_ caught Harry’s attention, and his head immediately snapped in my direction. “Diana, how on Earth did you manage-”

“He literally told us where to find it,” I said nonchalantly. “The dumpster, remember? And here are our phones, and Harry, your money-” I passed out our belongings. “Maybe he left it there for someone to pick it up for him. But I dropped by this morning when I was going to meet with Nitara and picked it up.”

Peter, Ned and Harry stared at me in awe, and I had to give a reassuring glance to Nitara for her to stop staring at me so fiercely. I could tell that she knew there was more to the story than I let on.

“Talk about _crazy_ luck.” Ned broke the silence.

Nitara didn’t skip a beat. “Yeah. Lucky.”

“I didn’t see you at the corner today,” I said to Nitara, trying to start some civil conversation.

“I went the other way,” my best friend mused. “You really think I would want to go down that road this morning? The same way?”

My face burned red. “I forgot,” I said quietly. “Sorry.”

Nitara grinned, even though there was nothing comical about what I had just said. “Yeah. Hah. Diana, about yesterday…”

I met Nitara’s piercing eyes.

“How could you just stand there and do _nothing?_ ”

Harry jumped into the conversation. “Woah, Nitara. None of us were in any position to do anything. We had nothing to offer. The guy had a _gun-_ ”

“You don’t- I- Harry, let go.”

Surprised, Harry unwrapped his arm from around Nitara, who jumped a few feet to the ground and stormed back to the school without explanation. “Jeez,” Harry mumbled. “What did I do?”

I ran a gloved hand through my hair. “It wasn’t you.”

Silence. Then, “…What did _you_ do?”

“I don’t _get_ it,” I said more to myself than my friends around me. “I got everything back to us. No harm, no foul.”

This time, Peter spoke up. “Maybe… she’s still just a little traumatized. Being held at gunpoint isn’t exactly a warm feeling.”

I shook my head. “You don’t get it, either. She and I have seen worse, and now all of a sudden she’s _mad_. I don’t know.”

“She’ll cool down,” Harry said. “Just give her time.”

I jumped off the fence and waved goodbye without looking back. Inside the school, the halls were still vacant. Usually this break was bliss, but I longed for lunch to be over already.

As I scaled the stairs, I thought about what I would do tomorrow. There was no Yearbook at lunch on Wednesdays, but Nitara usually sewed that day. If lunch with Peter, Harry and Ned went awkward without Nitara, I could always sit in silence with Michelle in the cafeteria.

When I reached my locker, Nitara was leaning against it, looking at her watch. For a split second, I debated turning around, but she immediately saw me and looked up. “D.”

Great. My best friend’s face was entirely unreadable, and didn’t move an inch as I walked over.

“I’m going to cut to the chase. I know you didn’t just find this bag this morning.”

I blinked in surprise. “What? But how-”

“Because I’ve known you since we were kids, idiot. You went after him, didn’t you?”

I decided not to answer her directly. I wasn’t even sure why she cared about that part. “Listen. I got everything back, alright? _And_ , bonus, he won’t be bothering anybody again.”

Nitara’s face went slack. “What? You… you didn’t…”

“ _Kill him?_ God no. I took his wallet and phone and told him I’d find him if he kept it up. Is _that_ why you’re mad about all of this? You thought I committed murder over a bag, hat, and a few hundred dollars?”

“No, Diana. Not completely. Back there… he could have _shot_ us. And you didn’t do anything! You didn’t know what was going to happen! What could have happened!”

“ _Nothing_ happened,” I whispered, quiet even though the hall was empty. “And I couldn’t. He would have recognised Harry, or checked my phone, then done some digging, and found out who _we_ were. Do you have any idea what might happen if the bad guys know who we are and where we live? We’d all be in danger. If he matched my face to Nightmare, there’s no way we would _ever_ get away. Then I _would_ have had to commit murder. So yeah, I didn’t do anything, because if he shot us, we’d be dead either way.”

I watched Nitara closely as she took in the truth in my words. Finally, she straightened against my locker with a firm hold on her purse. “I know there are risks to this. But… we could have _died_. I’m not just going to get over that. But… I want you to.”

My brow arched. “What? How is that even fair-”

“You’ve got to stop going after these guys, D,” Nitara huffed. “Vulture already saw your face. And it won’t take much for yesterday’s guy to put two and two together if you keep messing with this whole thing. So _please_ just promise me you won’t do anything stupid.”

“Nothing stupid,” I said. “Got it.”

My gaze lingered, and Nitara moved from in front of my locker. “Oh- sorry.”

I unlocked it and started to grab books for next class. “By the way, D, are you doing anything tonight? Working? You could come over, if you want.”

“Can’t,” I lied. I wanted to hang out with her. I did. But I also had a very non-stupid plan I didn’t want her to know about. “I work, and then I have to be home for supper.”

“Harry and I can come to the diner tonight,” Nitara offered, and my mind went blank. “We can sit at that one table next to the front desk. That could be fun.”

“Uh-Marty already gets mad when Madison calls me,” I said, trying not to stutter. “I don’t think he’d appreciate you guys coming, to be honest.”

The bell sounded, and I shrugged at Nitara as the hall started to get loud with voices again. “Maybe tomorrow.”

I knew that was a lie, too.

* * *

The first thing I realised when I got out of school was that I had left my Nightmare uniform at home. First, I had to wait until Nitara left school so she thought I went to the diner, then climb back up the fire escape on the now-properly-stacked recycling bins. I never felt good about doing it in the middle of the day, but the alley next to my apartment was fairly shadowed. By stopping at my room first, I at least had somewhere safe to put my backpack. I was in and out in a flash, and luckily remembered to close my bedroom door this morning so that I didn’t disturb Madison.

There wasn’t much for me to do in the broad daylight, and for the next three hours, I observed the city from whatever flat rooftops I managed to swing to. I couldn’t wait for daylight savings time to end, so that it would actually get dark before six and I could have more time to take advantage of the stealth the night gave me. Not that crime was nonexistent in the daylight, but I knew the people I was looking for wouldn’t be out until after dark.

I found my way to the building next to the alley from the night before, and tried to keep a low cover. If Nitara was out with Harry again, I didn’t want her seeing me on the edge of a rooftop on a stakeout. What I was doing now was probably something she’d call _stupid_ \- but I called it justice.

Nitara already proved she didn’t understand. I wasn’t on a revenge-fueled villain spree. The people who were at the alley last night worked with the robber, undoubtedly. This was the area they worked in. I didn’t know much about gangs, or crime groups, but I knew there were lots of them in Queens after dark, and that territory was limited. They would be back.

A can rattled from below, clear as day from the rooftop. At least to me.

Still holding on to the element of surprise, I crept to the edge of the rooftop and nudged my head over the edge just enough to see what was going on on the ground. Somebody had come from the opposite way, having climbed over the dumpster. The hooded figure looked to their left, their right, then pulled out their phone and dialed a number.

I closed my eyes and focused as the hum of the line ringing filled my ears. Once. Twice.

“ _Hello?_ ” A voice crackled from the other end.

The figure below stuffed their hand into their hoodie pocket. Their voice was raspy, feminine, urgent and most importantly, easily audible. “Where are you? You said you’d be here. If this is another setup, I swear-”

“ _Last night was a mistake_ ,” the callee said frantically.

“Damn right it was. If you pull any more shit, I’m off to Brooklyn. This ain’t a joke. If the cops get my ass-”

“ _Don’t worry about it. I’m almost there, and I’m bringing Teddy.”_

The figure spit onto the pavement. “This better be as good a grab as last night.”

I moved fully back onto the roof when I heard a car pull to a stop on the adjacent street. That had to be the caller and whoever Teddy was. I took a breath, peering over the ledge again to evaluate how I would get to the bottom of the alley. There was a pipe that went horizontal across the opposite building- I could latch a trail around it and swing down in no time. I could take three people, hopefully, if I got the jump before they pulled out a gun.

It was nothing I hadn’t done before.

“Hey,” a peppy voice behind me said, making me jump out of my skin.

Instinctively, spots in the air around me were splashed with inky darkness as I turned around in shock to come face to face with Spider-Man.

He looked at the darkness with wide white eyes. “That’s new.”

My heartbeat was done playing jump-rope but the darkness seemed to take a while to dissipate. “Oh. No. It’s not new. You just came out of nowhere.”

Spider-Man sat next to me, only he dangled his feet over the roof ledge. “What happened to that super-hearing of yours? Did it get rusty? You couldn’t tell I was coming.”

“Move your feet!” I swatted at his thigh. Surprised, Spider-Man slowly and carefully moved his feet from the edge and lowered his voice.

“What? You on some kind of stakeout?”

I rolled my eyes, which was fortunately the only part of my face that Spider-Man could see. “Yes. I was focusing. There’s going to be three people down there soon, armed, and I need to jump them at just the right moment.”

Spider-Man raised a finger to his chin. “Three against one. That’s hardly fair. What do you say we even the odds?”

It wouldn’t hurt to have a helping hand on this one. The last time there were guns involved, our teamwork was ultimately what saved us both. “Fine. Once the other two are ten feet from that dumpster, we jump. I’ll take the pavement if you jump on the dumpster.”

“Oh, awesome,” Spider-Man said, rubbing his hands together in excitement. “I was hoping I’d get the garbage side.”

“Sarcasm isn’t a superpower, you know,” I huffed, looking over the ledge again. I closed my eyes, and heard the faint sound of footsteps around the corner. “They’re coming. On my signal, okay?”

Spider-Man joined me in overlooking the scene below as a tall woman in a trench coat glided down the alley holding a leash in her fist. My eyes followed the leash to her other side, where behind her, a furry white terrier bounced along.

Spider-Man shook slightly, and I could tell he was holding in laughter. “Now _that’s_ scary. I sure wouldn’t want _them_ to pull a gun on me.”

“What did I just say? Plus, they said over the phone they were bringing Teddy. How was I supposed to know-”

Before I could finish my sentence, I noticed the callee and Teddy coming to a stop beyond the dumpster, stopping to pull a bulky manila envelope out of their trench coat. “It’s all in here. I nabbed it eight blocks away. No one saw.”

“On three,” I whispered to Spider-Man. “Can you make a grab for that?”

“You got it, chief.”

The person with the raspy voice stepped forwards to take the envelope, pulling a wad of cash out of their pocket. I held up my hand to Spider-Man, holding up one finger, then two, and as they were about to exchange the items… three.

We both simultaneously jumped into action- Spider-Man to the right, doing a flip onto the dumpster lid while shooting a web at the envelope, and me shooting a trail at the pipe, then pressing my feet off the wall so I sprung upright on the pavement. I called on five more trails, and they spread out from my back like veins on a wing, just to let the thief know that there was no getting by me. Immediately, I could see the woman under the trench coat clearly- brown skin, curly dark brown hair, striking brown eyes. She reached into her coat and I already knew what she had planned- I sent two trails flying. One to pull the gun out of her hands, and one to wrap around her right arm and waist.

I looked over her shoulder, where Spider-Man shot a web at the caller, pinning them against the building on my right.

“You bitch!” they cried, and at first I thought they were shouting at Spider-Man, until I heard the rest. “You said this was safe! You’re a goddamn _liar-_ ”

“Do I look like I had a say in this?” Trench Coat yelled back, struggling against the trail. She gasped and stopped when she moved her arm enough to draw blood. Sure, I made them sharp- but I didn’t tell her to struggle.

Spider-Man dangled his feet over the edge of the dumpster as he shot a web at the bills that was going to be used by the caller. He flipped through them all, and I could see that they were all Franklins, all fresh.

“Gee,” he said, stuffing them into a pocket I hadn’t noticed until now. “These all look new. Did you just take a trip to the bank? One in your basement, maybe?”

I grinned. The more evidence we had against these losers, the longer they’d be off the streets. I dropped the gun from the grasp of the trail that held it, then used it to slip into Trench Coat’s pocket outside her coat, where her cell phone was. Curious as to why I didn’t think of calling the cops on the criminals’ phones on day one, I started to bring it back over to me when Spider-Man suddenly took his attention off the caller and spun my way. “Nightmare! Watch it!”

I turned around to where Spider-Man was looking to be met with a rusty metal pipe to the face.

I rounded my trails just in time as I hit the pavement, back first, so that I didn’t get sliced like a pizza. Above me hovered a big, burly woman, and she lifted the pipe to strike again. I rolled to my left, right as she swung it hard against the concrete where I had just fallen.

Out of the corner of my eye, Trench Coat started to run over, gripping her arm tight where I had previously held her with a trail. “Babe! I told you to wait in the car!”

I tried to ignore the frenzy of spots dancing around in my vision. The stupid dog was barking up a lung somewhere to my right. Trench Coat, who’s footsteps now sounded like cymbals in my head, flew out of my line of sight, but my questions were answered as I heard the familiar clang of the dumpster and Spider-Man’s webs whizzing through the air. I took a breath to get the air back in my lungs, then looked back up to see the figure of the “Babe” towering over me with the pipe.

With a gasp, I shot my hand up, and a trail seared through the fabric of my glove and soared up and around the pipe, yanking it out of my perpetrator’s hands and tossing it across the alley.

I stared at my scarred hand that was glowing violet through the hole in my glove once I brought the trail back. _That_ was certainly new.

I stood up, glad I needed to use my exposed palm to steady myself against the wall. I sharpened the six trails around my back once more. “Sorry, _babe_.”

With that simple warning, I sent two trails flying around her arms and chest, and slammed her into the wall opposite me. I began to take slow steps closer to her, keeping her just high enough to have something razor sharp holding her in the air.

“That’s going to leave a mark,” I remarked, bringing the same rusty pipe I was hit with to my hands using a trail. “Want one to match?”

The cool metal burned in my grasp as I tightened my grip on it.

And then a warm hand rested on my shoulder. Spider-Man was giving me the same wide eyes he always sported, but I could tell that’s what they were like underneath the mask too.

Yeah, this probably didn’t look great.

I stared at the woman for just a few more seconds, and then let the pipe clatter to the ground as Spider-Man took over and webbed her to the wall. The empty feeling from my hands spread into my stomach. Shaking my head, I made a move for the phone on the ground and pressed the _Emergency_ button to call the police. By the time they would get here, Spider-Man and I would be long gone.

* * *

We didn’t split up right after like I had expected. We ensconced on a different rooftop this time, and although the top was cool from the sun having gone down over an hour ago, it felt nice not having to worry about what was happening below us.

“It’s been a while since I’ve seen you around,” was the first thing Spider-Man says to me after we caught our break. Not, “whew, good job back there!” or “good teamwork, Nightmare,”, but “where have you been?”

“I had some real-life things I had to take care of,” I answered. “Stuff that didn’t include ass-kicking.”

That was sort of a lie.

To my surprise, Spider-Man nodded in agreement. “I understand. It’s hard to see when the real-life, hero-life line starts to blur.”

I couldn’t have put it better, and nearly sighed in relief at how much a random stranger navigated these waters the same as I did.

“But you have to be careful,” he continued, rendering his statement too good to be true. “People can… and _will_ … get hurt if you don’t watch out.”

The portentous weight of Spider-Man’s last sentence lingered a moment too long in the still air of the night.

“I’m watching,” I said curiously, staring into the skyline in the distance. “I just watch some more than others.”

Spider-Man kicked at the loose gravel at our feet, clearly avoiding having to look me in the eye for whatever he was going to say next. “That’s… that can get you in deep with stuff you might not be able to handle. I don’t mean to underestimate you. But revenge just ends up biting you back.”

I let his words settle before responding. “It sounds like you’re speaking from experience.”

If I blinked, I would have missed the small nod that followed my sentence. Whatever had happened, Spider-Man definitely didn’t look like he was going to spill his guts to me about it. It wasn’t fair- we were both young. And sure, we may have been a little in over our heads, but no one our age deserved to learn crappy life lessons before the legal voting age. I kept my mouth shut, but couldn’t help but wonder.

**Author's Note:**

> hi again!  
> in case you were wondering, my social media is:  
> fanfiction.net: apolloshalo (i post lots of star wars on there, that some of isn't on ao3)  
> wattpad: apolloshalo (the only reason i have it is for my works that aren't fanfiction-- you should check out eternal illusion tho if you like fantasy)  
> twitter: apolloshalos  
> costar: i think apolloshalo  
> spotify: watermelonicole (I will be making playlists related to fics and works on there soon, so if you want to hear the music I vibe to and associate with my works, or just listen to my punk/rock playlists, be my guest!)


End file.
